Blood Brothers
by JamiW
Summary: Eighth in the "Free" series - Follow up to La Fine ed la Inizio. B/A, M/C casefile
1. Chapter 1

**Bobby POV**

* * *

When I woke up, it was still dark and I was alone in the bed.

We'd been up pretty late the night before, so I was surprised that Alex wasn't still asleep.

I got up and pulled on a pair of boxers and then went down the hall in search of my wife.

I could hear her voice in the living room. She was speaking in a hushed tone.

"No, it's not that," she was saying. "I just don't want to tell him. Not yet."

Tell him? _Me_? And since when did she keep things from me?

I stalled my movements and continued to listen. I felt a wave of fear roll through me. This wasn't us. Alex didn't keep secrets and I didn't eavesdrop.

And yet here we were.

"I can't right now. Please don't ask me," she continued.

I stuck my head around the corner of the living room and saw her standing in front of the window.

I flashed back to the morning only two weeks ago when I'd come out here to find her standing there. Only that time, we'd ended up making love on the living room floor. I had my doubts that this morning would hold a similar ending.

"I know. I've been thinking about you, too."

Her voice was soft and wistful. I felt like a knife was twisting in my heart. _Who was she talking to and why was she thinking about him_?

_Don't jump to conclusions_, I warned myself. This is Alex. Have a little faith. Maybe it was her dad or her sister.

"I'll see you soon. I promise," she said.

She said _I'll_ not _we'll_. We always presented a united front to her family. She'd been the one to start that habit. She wasn't talking to any of them.

"Okay. I love you, too."

_What_? Alex wasn't a gushy person. She didn't end conversations like that with anyone but me. No one. Now I was not only scared, but angry, too. What the hell was going on here?

I took two steps into the living room, but she still didn't hear me. She had her back to the room and she was laughing quietly.

And then she said his name.

"Ron," she chuckled.

Ron? Ron _Carver_?

"Alex!" I said loudly.

"Bobby?" she questioned as she turned around. But then she said it again.

"Bobby!" I felt her hands on me even though she was across the room. How is she doing that?

I opened my eyes.

We were both still in the bed. _Oh thank God_.

"Are you okay?" she asked me in a sleep-filled voice.

"I…um…wow. Bad dream," I stammered.

"You want to talk about it?" she asked as she curled into my side. I ran my hand over her hair while I attempted to settle my heart rate back to normal.

Of all of the nightmares that I've had in my life, this one had to border on being the worst.

Alex telling Carver that she loved him.

If I weren't still so horrified it might have been funny.

"No, I don't think so," I replied. I kept stroking her hair and I figured that she would fall back asleep any minute.

"I was in it. You shouted my name."

"Yes," I admitted.

"And your heart is still racing," she added.

"Maybe it's racing because I've got a beautiful naked woman pressed up against me," I told her. I wanted to erase the dream from my memory.

"Bobby," she whispered again, only this time it was in understanding. We'd certainly had enough bad dreams between the two of us. I would offer her full disclosure, but sometimes intimacy was needed first.

I tightened my arm that was around her back and shifted her so that she lay fully on top of me.

"I'm going back to sleep after this," she told me, although she had a smile on her face. And the unstated was clear. After this _and_ after we talk.

"We have a plane to catch in…six hours," I told her as I looked at the clock.

"That's then. This is now," she replied as she reached up to kiss me. I closed my eyes and tightened my grip on her firm backside.

But her words from my dream reverberated in my head.

_I love you, too. _

_Ron_.

"Talk to me, honey," I whispered as she kissed her way along my still-tender jaw. She was considerate of the lingering bruise and her tenderness sent a pleasant buzzing feeling throughout my body.

But I still needed the connection. I needed to know she was in the here and now. _With me_.

"That's usually your job," she teased as she worked up to my ear.

"Alex," I pleaded softly. I watched her as she sat up so that she could look at me, her eyes searching mine questioningly.

She either found the answer or she decided she didn't need one, because after only a moment, she leaned down to kiss me again and then she started up a steady stream of words of love.

I held my hands on her hips as she slowly settled down onto me. The feeling never got old. She knew that I liked to be still in those first few seconds, liked to savor the sensation, and she rarely rushed me.

I watched her as she sat still for a moment, with her head thrown back and her eyes closed and my name on her lips…I was the luckiest son of a bitch in the world.

After a minute or so, I squeezed my hands where they still rested on her hips, spurring her into action.

But only just barely.

She kept it torturously, wonderfully, perfectly slow and methodical. She continued to say my name and her hands were everywhere…across my chest, in my hair, along my face…it all felt so incredible that I had trouble keeping my eyes open but I did because I didn't want to miss out on watching her.

And suddenly, after what seemed like an eternity and yet no time at all, she was right there, and she brought me right along with her.

She moaned my name with such adoration, such reverence, that I felt my confidence being restored.

Alex relaxed against my chest and my arms immediately went around her.

"If I'd known you were so good at eradicating bad dreams, I would've married you years ago," I mumbled.

"Well, we all have a skill," she quipped back.

"A skill? I'd say you have many. And you know, you do still owe me…"

"I know," she chuckled against my chest. "I haven't forgotten."

I took in a deep breath in an effort to get my pulse under control, despite the fact that she'd done most of the work. She was likely going to be the death of me one of these days, but I could think of worse ways to go.

"Thank you," I whispered. The unease that had taken up residence in my brain after the dream had dissipated. Now I could deal with it.

"I don't think that's the kind of thing you're allowed to thank me for."

"Still…"

"So, I was in it…" she began as her hands stroked my sweat-covered skin.

Logan liked to call her Wonder Woman, but I was starting to think that she was a super-hero all her own. A woman who could alleviate fears, read minds, and always know the exact right thing to say…

"You were," I admitted. "I guess I still had our conversation with Deakins on my mind."

"You dreamed about Deakins?"

"No, Carver."

"We don't have to take the case if it's going to bother you. I know you and him never really saw eye to eye."

"No, we didn't," I agreed.

Then, because the basic concept of my dream was still so fresh in my mind, I proceeded to tell her.

And because Alex and I always told each other the truth.

"Actually, I dreamed that you were talking with Carver on the phone. Privately. And you told him…you told him that…you loved him."

"What?" she asked as she pushed herself up from my chest. "Seriously?"

"Yeah," I admitted, even though I was starting to feel a little ridiculous about it. Alex and Carver? Why in the world would that thought be in my head?

She tried to hide her laugh as she settled against my chest again. After a moment, she gave up the pretense, and laughed out loud.

"I'm sorry. I can't help it. That's the craziest thing I've ever heard," she said as she worked to get herself under control. "Do I even have to say it?"

"Say what?"

"That there is no way, ever, that I would be with Carver. Never. Not even if you didn't want to have anything to do with me."

"I know," I sighed. "I guess since Deakins was talking about him, he was still on my brain."

"But why was I being duplicitous?" she asked. She sounded serious now.

"I don't think it's you," I told her. I resumed running my fingers through her hair and I set my other hand on top of hers where it rested on my chest. "Dreams about a cheating spouse don't necessarily have anything to do with the spouse."

"They can mean that you're worried about failure," she remarked. I was surprised by her knowledge on the topic considering this type of thing was usually my forte.

"That's exactly right."

"Or it can mean that your spouse is cheating."

"Well, yeah."

"I used to dream about Joe like that," she said quietly. "So I read up on all of the meanings for those types of dreams."

Joe. The idea that he'd caused her so much pain still ripped me up on the inside. I felt somewhat bad about that considering that the man was dead, but at the same time I couldn't stop myself.

He'd hurt Alex.

He'd perpetuated some of her insecurities and he'd been the cause of her feeling inadequate in the bedroom.

Although I think I've managed to mostly correct her self-image on that.

"So while I had all kinds of alternate theories for why I might be having those dreams, it turned out that he was just a cheat," she continued. I held onto her a little tighter.

"But I know that you're not," I said softly.

"No," she agreed. "That's one thing you never have to worry about."

And I knew that. We had our moments of disagreement. We both had a lack of self-confidence with certain issues that might cause some discord between us until we could work through it.

But Alex would never cheat on me, just like I would never cheat on her.

"So you think I'm afraid to fail."

"I think you've always felt the need to prove yourself to Carver."

I thought about that for a minute. She was probably right. Carver was condescending and arrogant and I used to love to try to bring him down a peg or two. I didn't want him to think that he was better than me just because he went to law school.

And now he needed our help. Okay, so not _our_ help, but that's what he was going to get. He'd gone to Deakins. Deakins had come to us.

Carver had offered to pay a hefty sum, including all of the expenses for an investigative team to come to Chicago to find his brother.

When Deakins told him that he knew just the right people for the job, no names were mentioned. Carver said he didn't care who it was, just send them the hell out there.

He was in a hurry because of his never-ending ambitions. See, Ron Carver was running for the Cook County DA. His brother was a former drug addict who Carver suspected had fallen off the wagon.

He wanted the brother found and put into rehab before the local press got wind of it. That was why he'd called upon his old friend in New York rather than finding assistance in Chicago. He wanted to sweep it all under the rug.

I could appreciate his feelings to an extent. I surely knew what it was like to have a brother with less-than-savory habits. And politics were a tough enough forum without bringing family members' issues into the ring.

But still…it sounded like Carver hadn't changed much. He was self-centered and conceited and only focused on how he could better himself.

And maybe I did have a hang-up about him. Maybe I did feel the need to prove that I was every bit as good as he was.

But whatever my feelings on him, it was a case, and a well-paying one at that.

So we were going to Chicago, all four of us.

It was going to make for an interesting reunion.

TBC...


	2. Chapter 2

**Alex POV**

* * *

I stayed awake long after Bobby had shared his dream and then drifted off to sleep. He wasn't the typical guy who was always sure to be out cold after sex, but he did tend to get drowsy after opening up emotionally.

And I supposed that made sense.

Bobby's brain was usually in control as opposed to other parts of his anatomy.

And while I had no complaints about those other parts, it was true that he was rarely ruled by them. It stood to reason that excessive use of his brain would put him out even when excessive use of his…other areas…did not.

Personally, I slept in spurts. And usually, once I was awake, then I was awake.

So when I was awakened due to Bobby's dream, when he had called out my name with such strong emotion, then I was fairly certain that I would be up for the day.

Although I wasn't leaving this bed any time soon.

Bobby hadn't wanted to talk about the dream at first, but I had a feeling that I knew what it related to. His need for my touch and to hear my voice had spoken volumes to me. I was more than happy to provide him the reassurance he needed.

It was funny how we went back and forth with that. On any given day, I needed his affirmation or he needed mine. Hopefully as long as we continued to alternate, we would be fine. I wasn't sure how it would work if we both had a crisis of confidence on the same day.

I settled against Bobby's side and pondered our upcoming case.

I wasn't crazy about working with Carver. He'd been a thorn in our sides for the better part of our early years at MCS. He'd double-crossed us on more than one occasion.

Of course, he didn't consider it a double-cross. He considered it justice. _The greater good_. But going back on his word was wrong no matter what label he wanted to put on it.

Mike and Carolyn hadn't been much more thrilled than Bobby and I, but it was a well-paying gig so it was hard to turn down.

Besides, if Carver's brother was missing and possibly using again, then he was the one who needed our help. Carver could call it what he wanted, but ultimately maybe we could help out his brother.

I had a feeling that was part of what was on Bobby's mind, maybe contributing to his anxieties.

Because no matter what Bobby had done to help his own brother, Frank had always done his own thing. Ultimately, his addiction had killed him, even if literally it had been Nicole.

If he hadn't been high at the time, it was unlikely that she would've ever gotten him out the window.

But he was and she did.

And then to add insult to injury, Bobby got the humiliation of being investigated for the murder of his own brother.

So maybe in some ways this would allow him to feel some sort of redemption. He could help someone else's brother.

Although maybe I was over thinking it.

Because from what I'd seen and heard, lack of blood relation aside, Logan had been more of a brother to Bobby in just the past year than Frank was in his entire life.

Hell, Mike had been like a brother to me, too, even more so than my own brothers.

Last night at the bar, he'd asked me to dance. He and Carolyn had burned up the floor for most of the night, but when she finally called it quits, he'd pulled me onto the small parquet floor.

"_You're in a good mood tonight,"_ I'd said as he held me close.

It was weird that it _didn't_ feel weird. And as I glanced at Bobby, I could tell that he was okay with it.

"_Every once in a while, life is good. Of course, then I start to wonder when it's going to all go to crap again." _

I'd laughed out loud.

"_Now you sound like Bobby,"_ I'd told him.

"_I must be right, then,"_ he'd said with a smile.

"_You think a lot of him, don't you?"_

"_I…I do, yeah. I think of him as a…um…as a brother."_

I'd embarrassed him without meaning to. Mike wasn't one to display emotion very often. Not real emotion. Not with anyone other than Carolyn.

But the alcohol had been flowing freely and both of our tongues were loosened.

So I pressed the issue and he humored me.

"_I think that sentiment is mutual. It's not just any guy that Bobby would allow to feel-up his wife," _I'd teased.

"_I'm not…"_

I laughed again as he stammered through his denial, but then I pulled his head down so that I could reach his cheek and I gave him a kiss.

"_You're a good guy, Mike. Stop waiting for the other shoe to drop. You deserve to be happy."_

He'd argued with me half-heartedly about that through the second half of the song, but then when the music stopped, he'd pulled me into a tight hug and whispered _thank you_ into my ear.

Of course, then as we walked back to the table he'd teased me about my two left feet on the dance floor.

_Yeah, he was like a brother_.

My own brothers loved me, of that I had no doubt. But they wanted me to live up to their expectations. Mike wanted me to live up to my own.

So this trip to Chicago was going to be a good first case for us.

I had wondered how our dynamic would work, and how the cases would be divided up. I liked the idea of the four of us working together on one thing, although I knew that would probably not be the norm.

But considering Carver's time constraints and his willingness to pay, we were going to head out on Saturday and hopefully wrap things up by Monday evening. That would only take one work day away from our other clientele.

We would take some of the active files with us in case we got held up longer than expected. If necessary, one or two of us would fly home early to take care of things on the home front.

But until then, we could get through the honeymoon phase of the working relationship together.

* * *

**Logan POV**

I didn't have much use for Carver, but I thought the world of Deakins so if he was asking for our help, then I'd be happy to give it.

Our former captain had laid out the basics for us, and then he'd said that he needed to get home to Angie. I teased him about being kept on a tight leash, but he'd merely shrugged and said that he was fine with that.

I couldn't really argue. I was fine with being on a short leash, too. Not that Carolyn dictated my movements much, but she could if she wanted.

At the moment, my movements were dictated by airport security as we showed the proper identification and went through the metal detectors.

Our weapons were left at home since Illinois was a no-issue state. Normally, that might have bothered me a little bit, but traveling with Carolyn and Alex was typically safer than carrying my own .45.

"So Carver doesn't know it's us," I stated rather than asked as we settled into our seats on board the aircraft.

I was a huge fan of flying and I would love to get to do it more often. My old man had been a pilot during the Korean War. I'd grown up thinking that I wanted to be a fighter pilot, too, but that was before I'd been beaten soundly enough in the head by my mother to cause both of my ear drums to rupture.

As a kid, I didn't realize that was even possible.

By the time I was fourteen, I'd had more than three dozen instances of perforated ear drums, and I had to face the facts.

The Navy doesn't like pilots with chronic tinnitus, especially when the true cause was never documented.

So, a cop was the next best thing as far as I was concerned.

"Deakins didn't fill him in," Goren responded. "I'm not sure if he was afraid that Carver would rescind the offer, or if he truly didn't think it mattered. Either way, I think it's safe to say that we'll be a surprise."

"I don't remember him being all that big on surprises," Carolyn mumbled.

"Hey, he needs us more than we need him," Alex remarked. "If he doesn't want us on the job, we'll just fly back to New York."

"I wonder if he still wears those God-awful ties," Carolyn said, still appearing to be only talking to herself. She had buckled herself in already even though passengers were still boarding.

She hated to fly.

It was the only thing I'd ever really seen her afraid of. Usually she books evening flights so that she can have a drink or two to relax her before take-off, but this time it wasn't even noon so it was a little too early for alcohol.

I grabbed her hand and held on tightly as I leaned around her to talk to the Gorens, who were sitting across the aisle from us. I thought maybe I could get her mind occupied on something other than the flight.

"Deakins emailed us the arrangements," I told them. "Carver booked two rooms at a downtown hotel on North Michigan. We're supposed to meet with him in his office on North Lake Shore Drive at three o'clock this afternoon."

"Lake Shore, huh?" Goren replied. "He's really hit the big time out there."

I watched as Alex gave him a look. I wasn't sure what was going on there, but it was something…something more than just not caring for Carver.

Was there a history?

No way would I believe for a second that Alex had any kind of history with that man.

But still…it was something.

I sat back in my seat as Carolyn dug her fingernails into my hand. She had her head back against the seat and her eyes were closed.

I wracked my brain, searching for inane subject matter as the plane began its taxi.

"So we need to get you a new driver's license, right?"

"What?" she asked distractedly.

"If you're changing your name, then you'll need take care of all of the official documents," I replied casually, ignoring the sting of her nails in my hand. "Driver's license, PI license, weapons permit, social security card…"

"That sounds like a lot of work. Maybe I'll just keep Barek."

She kept her eyes tightly shut, but she gave me a quick smile.

"Yeah," she continued. "You know what? Maybe you can change your stuff. You can be Mike Barek."

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Sure, I'm a progressive kind of guy," I said.

I knew she was teasing me, but what the hell. She had relaxed her grip slightly, so her mind was at least partly focused on me rather than the take-off. We were just getting off the ground and I knew that once we got to cruising altitude, she'd be fine.

I leaned over and kissed her on the cheek and then whispered in her ear, "I'll be anything you want me to be, sweetheart."

She smiled again and took a deep breath, but she didn't open her eyes until the angle of the plane leveled off. She turned her head and looked at me.

"I hate that," she admitted. "How can I be afraid to fly?"

"How can you not be afraid of anything else?"

Two hours later, I repeated my distraction method as she once again flayed my palm during landing.

But then we were off and running.

We got a cab to the hotel, checked into our rooms, and then met back in the lobby.

"Let's get this thing started," Goren said as he buttoned up his overcoat. It had been cold in New York, but it felt even colder in Chicago. "With any luck, we'll be on a plane back home Monday morning."

"You really think we're going to find his drug-addicted brother that fast?" I asked him as the four of us walked outside. "If it were that easy, Carver could've done it himself."

"And get dirty on the back streets of Chicago?" Alex laughed. "I don't think so."

We hailed a cab and I spouted off the address that Deakins had given me for Carver's office building. It was only about six blocks from the hotel and if I'd realized that, we probably would've walked even considering the cold.

"You two are familiar with him," Carolyn said to the Gorens as we went into the lobby of the courthouse. The ADAs had offices on the fifth floor. "You take the lead."

The words had barely left her mouth when we spotted Carver across the expansive entrance hall.

He looked exactly as I remembered him, which was slightly annoying since he didn't appear to have aged a day. He wore an expensive black suit, an impossibly white shirt, and a pink silk tie.

The sight of the tie reminded me of Carolyn's comment on the plane, and I caught her eye and raised my eyebrow slightly. She smirked and ducked her head.

"Detectives," he said smoothly when he approached. "I'm not sure I want to know what you're doing in my fair city."

"We're here to help you," Goren told him as he offered his hand. Carver shook it apprehensively and then looked specifically at Alex as though awaiting translation.

"We're not with the NYPD anymore," she explained. "We have a consulting and investigation firm."

At his continued confused expression, she added, "We're the group you hired through Jimmy Deakins."

TBC...


	3. Chapter 3

**Carver POV (Yeah, that's right...CARVER)**

* * *

I'd gone down to the lobby to meet the investigators because I was pretty sure that I didn't want them traipsing through the fifth floor offices.

Jimmy Deakins was a good man, but he undoubtedly knew some unsavory characters and somehow the term _New York Private Investigator_ did not inspire me to believe that the individuals would be refined. Or cultured. Or _well-groomed_.

To put it bluntly, I had no doubt that these investigators would stick out like a sore thumb in the posh upstairs offices. Speculation would surely abound, and that was the last thing I wanted.

Not to mention the fact that I just had my office furniture reupholstered.

So I checked myself in the mirror and then rode the elevator downstairs at around twenty minutes before three. I didn't expect them to be punctual, but I wasn't going to take the chance. I was too well-prepared to let a little thing like timing ruin my plans.

I had driven my ex-wife crazy with things like that. She didn't understand the nuances of maneuvering people. She couldn't grasp the concept that luck didn't just happen – people made their own luck, even if it meant stepping on a few toes along the way.

She had been nice to look at and fun for awhile, but ultimately ill-suited as the wife of a DA.

So Phoebe had stayed in New York and I had moved on to Chicago. The divorce papers had followed soon after.

And that was fine. I may not be a DA yet, but I would be soon enough. In the game of politics, there was no such thing as irrelevant details. Phoebe would've been examined in the press. She would have never been able to withstand the pressure.

But I'd shed one liability only to gain another.

And I hated to admit it, but my brother Derek was an even greater problem than Phoebe. I hadn't even realized that he was in Chicago when I'd accepted the offer from the Cook County prosecutor's office.

See, we'd grown up here. In Cabrini Green.

As soon as I graduated high school, I'd escaped to the east coast, to New York to attend John Jay College. It had an excellent pre-law program and it was two thousand miles away from the drug dealers and thugs who inhabited the neighborhood where I grew up.

But that meant I left Derek behind. He was two years younger than me. He'd begged me to stay in town. To go to Northwestern or the U of I. But I wanted to get out.

Without my guidance, Derek had slipped over to the dark side. He got hooked on cocaine and started running with a gang. When he was seventeen, he got popped for breaking and entering.

I flew home and read him the riot act and then managed to talk the attorney into a plea. Probation, community service, and an expunged record at age eighteen.

See, I was good at the legalese even before I was a lawyer. It's what I was born to do.

After that incident, and once Derek completed his probation, I encouraged him to go to college. He got into a small junior college in downstate Illinois where he stayed clean and stayed out of trouble.

He got his Associate's degree the same year I got my Bachelor's from John Jay. That was twenty-five years ago, and that was the last time I'd seen him.

Until last week.

Last week I'd been going through witness statements for a murder case.

"_So you saw the accused, along with another unidentified suspect, on Abel Street at the time of the murder?"_

"_Yeah, but he ain't unidentified. I know him. He buys from me all the time."_

"_Drugs."_

"_That's right."_

"_You know this individual's name?"_

"_Nah, man, but he goes by Butcher."_

My blood had run cold when I read the police interview transcript, and then I pulled out the artist rendition that had gone along with the statement.

It was, without a doubt, my brother. Butcher had been his street name back in high school. It came from our last name rather than a penchant for using knives, but still…

He was in Chicago. He was buying drugs. And he was a witness, and possibly a suspect, in a murder case.

_Goodbye, DA's office_.

Thus my call to Deakins, which ultimately led to my meeting with the New York investigators.

I needed to find Derek before the cops did, and get him into rehab. Preferably in another state, and definitely under a pseudonym.

So I stepped off the elevator and looked toward the front entrance. And that was when I saw her.

Detective Alexandra Eames.

I had no idea what she was doing in Chicago, but it was my good fortune that she'd just walked into my office building, looking as lovely as ever.

But then I saw who was with her. Could she not go anywhere without that man?

And Detectives Logan and Barek? What were they doing here?

Had there been a mass exodus of detectives from New York to Chicago?

I crossed the lobby guardedly, carefully schooling my features to remain indifferent.

"Detectives," I said as I approached. "I'm not sure I want to know what you're doing in my fair city."

"We're here to help you," Detective Goren replied. He offered his hand and I forced myself to shake it without first looking at it for cleanliness. I'd seen pictures of some of the things the man had touched.

I let go of him as quickly as possible and, ignoring Logan and Barek altogether, I then turned to Detective Eames.

As usual, Goren's words had only managed to confuse me rather than clarify the situation. Eames would clear things up. I was pretty sure that was why they kept her partnered with him. He might be good at finding killers, but his social skills and verbalization were lacking.

"We're not with the NYPD anymore," Eames told me. "We have a consulting and investigation firm."

We, as in the four of them together? They were no longer detectives?

I had a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach and my fear was validated a moment later when she continued.

"We're the group you hired through Jimmy Deakins."

"You're here. To help me," I replied slowly. And I hated that I sounded like a dolt but I was in shock.

Perhaps my office would've been a better place for this meeting after all. At least in there, I would've had privacy.

"That's right," Logan said with a smug smile. "Lucky you, right?"

"Yes. That's exactly what I was thinking, Detective. Lucky me."

**

* * *

**

Bobby POV

Okay, so I got a kick out of surprising Carver like that.

What can I say? The man had yanked my chain often enough during his time as a New York prosecutor. I wasn't going to feel bad about deriving some pleasure from his discomfort.

Although I wasn't crazy about the way he'd looked at Alex. I saw him from across the room, and I'd noticed his expression at the precise moment that he saw her. And then again when he saw me.

She might not ever consider having a thing with Carver, but there was no doubt in my mind that he'd considered having a thing with her. Was _still _considering trying to have a thing with her.

It annoyed me and yet at the same time, it was going to be quite gratifying when she shot him down.

I bit back a smile and forced myself to focus on the work.

"Can we meet in your office? Or would you prefer we went somewhere else?" I asked him.

"I think maybe there's been some kind of misunderstanding."

"Deakins said you need investigators. Not-from-Chicago investigators. That's us. How else can that be interpreted?" Logan asked him in annoyance.

Carver was still standing there looking as though he'd swallowed something vile.

"Look, Counselor," I began. "I can appreciate that this is a personal matter. We will handle it with the utmost discretion."

When he still didn't move, Alex spoke up.

"If you'd rather not have us here, we understand. It's your choice. But we're here, and we're willing to help, and honestly, we're pretty damn good at our jobs."

"My apologies for my hesitancy," he said quickly, keeping his eyes on Alex. "Surely you can understand how your appearance here is unexpected."

She nodded her agreement and he smiled in return. I shifted my weight so that I moved subtly closer to Alex.

"Let's go to my office," he said after a moment. "I've prepared a file with what little bit of information I have, and then I'll let you four get started."

When we got out on the fifth floor, I struggled to contain my surprise. It looked more like offices for Wall Street bankers rather than prosecuting attorneys. The money was flowing freely in Cook County, much more so than in Manhattan. There were well-dressed secretaries and paralegals in abundance, and the second I saw the upscale atmosphere, I knew why he had come down to the lobby.

He was afraid of being embarrassed from associating with lower-class people. I guess since he'd allowed us to come up, we must have passed his visual inspection.

What an ass.

I had the strong urge to start pacing the room while rambling loudly about government conspiracies or UFO's.

I glanced at Alex and realized that she was watching me. She smirked at me and shook her head slightly. She knew exactly what I was thinking. I smiled back at her and continued down the hall.

"Right this way, Detectives," Carver said as he held a door open for us at the end of the hall. None of us corrected him about his use of our titles. We'd already told him that we no longer worked for the department.

I entered his office and shed my over coat, which I casually tossed over my arm. I wondered idly how long it would take for Carver to notice my wedding ring. Probably considerably longer than it would take for him to notice Alex's.

But would he put it together? Probably not.

"So your brother," Carolyn began as we all sat down in various expensive-looking chairs that were strategically placed around the office.

"What did Jimmy tell you?" Carver interrupted. He was clearly still uncomfortable. He went around and sat down behind his desk to keep that barrier between us.

"Not much," Alex spoke up. "He said that your brother has an addiction problem, and that you would like to find him and get him into rehab."

"Preferably before the election," I added.

"I'm not doing this to benefit my career," he replied slickly. "I haven't spoken to my brother in years. I didn't know he was in Chicago, and when I found out, it was too late. He was already on the streets. I would like to get him some help."

"How did you find out he was here?" Mike asked. Carver looked at him with undisguised disdain. I was pretty sure that if it had only been Mike and Carolyn who had come to Chicago, Carver would've had them on the first plane back to New York.

"I would rather not discuss that aspect," he said.

"Counselor, we need to have all of the information if we're going to help you find him," I reminded him. "You should know better than anyone that any facts withheld can have an adverse effect on the outcome."

Carver deliberately moved his eyes from Logan to me and then on to Alex again.

Yeah, okay, so maybe _she_ was the only reason why he had allowed us to work this case. Had he been this blatant about it before? I didn't think so, but maybe the working relationship had kept him at bay. Or maybe his wife. I noticed he no longer wore a ring, and there were no pictures in his office, so it was a safe bet that she was now an ex-wife.

I cleared my throat to get his attention and he slowly brought his gaze back to mine.

"I am aware of the proper way to run an investigation, Detective."

"Good, then you realize that we need to have full disclosure," Alex told him.

He picked up a file from his desk and held it in his hands for a moment before offering it to Alex.

She reached for it but he held onto it while he spoke.

"Everything that I know is in that file, including a private number on which I can be reached. I don't need to know the details on how you go about finding him. Just do it, and then contact me. I'll make the arrangements to have him admitted into a rehab facility."

"Is that file going to self-destruct in ten seconds?" Logan asked.

"Keep track of your expenses and you'll be properly reimbursed," Carver continued, ignoring Logan's joke. "I have another meeting in a few minutes, Detectives. I would appreciate it if you'd show yourselves out."

We all stood up to leave and I noticed that Carver finally let go of the file.

"It was a pleasure seeing you again, Detective," he said. "All of you," he added belatedly.

"We'll be in touch," Alex replied, and then she handed me the file and slipped on her coat.

"That guy doesn't care about his brother," Mike said in a low voice as we headed for the elevator. "He's practicing CYA."

"Twenty bucks says that rehab facility is in Anchorage," Alex added.

"It's not like him to withhold evidence," I said. "The Carver I remember would've told the cops that he knew who the unidentified suspect was."

"So maybe he is trying to protect his brother," Carolyn suggested.

"No. He's protecting himself," Alex countered. "The publicity that would come from having a brother investigated for murder would ruin him. He thinks that finding him and hiding him away is the only option."

"So what are we going to do?" Mike asked.

"We'll find him," I stated. "Then we'll talk about what's next."

TBC...


	4. Chapter 4

**Carver POV**

* * *

I didn't have an appointment.

I'd just wanted to get the detectives out of my office.

_Investigators_, I reminded myself.

And truthfully, I really only wanted three of them out of my office. I would've let Alexandra stay as long as she liked.

I'd always found her attractive, but seeing her today had really brought that consideration home.

I sat back in my chair and thought about her for a minute longer.

Now _she_ would be an excellent DA's wife.

She was smart and resourceful. She knew how to play the political game when it was necessary, and she was very diplomatic. She had to be after working with _that man_ for so many years. I had no idea how many of his messes she'd had to clean up, and the fact that I _didn't_ know meant she was quite adept at presenting a polished picture.

Not to mention the fact that she cleaned up well. She could stand to shop at higher-end stores, but that fault could be easily remedied.

_Am I really sitting here considering courting Alexandra Eames_?

Yes. I've always gone after whatever I wanted. What good did it do to sit back and wait? None whatsoever.

The fact of the matter was that having a wife was a valuable asset to a politician as long as the wife was laudable, and I believed her to be the best candidate I'd come across in quite some time.

Of course, I hadn't thought to check to see if she was already married. It had been several years since I saw her last.

But if she was married, then why was she still working with Goren? What kind of husband would let his wife go into business with a ticking time bomb?

That settled it. Clearly she was still available. And she was only going to be in town for a short while. I couldn't waste time.

I picked up the phone and called the hotel. Of course, I'd made the reservations myself, so the front desk was unfamiliar with her name specifically and I didn't know which of the two rooms she had chosen, so I had to describe her as well as the others in hopes that the concierge could catch her on the way in.

I checked my watch. As I mentioned, timing is everything.

And I think that today my timing was perfect.

**

* * *

**

Carolyn POV

I didn't like Carver back when I worked for the department and after spending half an hour with him, I remembered exactly why. He was a conceited son of a bitch who thought he was better than everyone else. Especially better than lowly private investigators.

The whole time we'd spoken with him, his attention had been focused on Alex. If I didn't know better, I would've thought that they used to be lovers.

Rather, that's what I gathered from watching _him_. Alex hadn't put out any vibe at all, which led me to believe that she was masking her distaste.

I had to give Bobby credit for holding his tongue and ignoring the attorney's blatant interest in Alex. Although I also had no doubt that the issue was far from over. It would come to a head at some point. I just hoped I was around to see it.

We left the Lake Shore Drive office and went back to our hotel. It wasn't quite four o'clock yet and the consensus was that we would put in a few hours on the gritty streets of Cabrini Green.

But clearly we needed to change clothes first. It was unlikely that anyone would believe that we belonged there, but at the very least, we didn't want to look like cops.

"Meet you guys back here in twenty," Mike said to Bobby and Alex as we crossed the lobby.

Our room was on the second floor and theirs was on the fourth. The place must be nearly filled to capacity if Carver had been unable to get two rooms on the same floor, but that was fine.

"Um, excuse me!"

The four of us stopped and turned around as the hotel concierge came running toward us.

"Are you…Alexandra?"

"Yes I am," Alex replied. The man held out a piece of paper to her.

"I'm sorry. There was a man who called to leave a message for Alexandra Eames, but since you're not the registered guest, he gave me a description and he mentioned that you were investigators from New York…" The concierge trailed off his rambling explanation and Alex took the note from his hand.

"Thank you."

"It's got to be Carver," she told us as we continued toward the elevators. She unfolded the paper and let out a groan. "Oh you have got to be kidding me."

"What is it?" Bobby asked her.

"He's inviting me to dinner," she replied.

"All of us or just you?"

"Just me."

"Carver's asking you on a date?" Mike asked with amusement.

"He must have called over here right after we left," I mused as we got on the elevator.

He hadn't asked while we were there because he didn't want to do it in front of the rest of us. He honestly thought he had a shot with her.

Oh yeah. That issue was going to come to a head even sooner than I'd expected.

"So what, he just thinks you're going to drop everything to have dinner with him?" Bobby asked.

I was sure he was going for casual, but he didn't pull it off. What was he afraid of? That she would actually go?

_Oh Bobby…you and Mike are two peas in a pod with your insecurities_.

"Of course he'd think that," Alex said in annoyance. "Because he's a pompous jackass."

She balled up the message and quietly fumed as the elevator stopped on the second floor.

"Twenty minutes," Mike reminded them.

"Got it," Alex said quickly as the doors closed.

"Now see, this is when I wish our rooms were on the same floor," Mike remarked as we went to our room. "I'd love to hear this conversation."

"You mean with Alex and Carver, or Alex and Bobby?"

"Either. Both."

"Bobby's not mad. She didn't do anything to encourage him."

"No, I know. But in case you hadn't noticed, he's got some jealousy issues."

"Huh," I replied thoughtfully as I waited for him to unlock the door. "Really? Are you sure?"

"Oh, you're being sarcastic now?"

We were in the room by this point and he started advancing on me as I backed up.

"I'm just wondering how you'd think I was familiar with jealousy issues. I mean, it's not like you've ever had any trouble."

"No. Never."

"That's right. You're nothing like him. You don't get upset when someone looks at me too long, or…"

"Asks you out on a date?"

"Right."

"Let me hear someone ask you out," he remarked as he pulled off his coat and his suit jacket. Then he started loosening his tie in a deliberate way that left no doubt as to his intentions.

"We only have twenty minutes," I reminded him.

"I know."

"It's going to take me some time to look like I blend in with the locals in the projects."

"You'll never pull it off. You're too damn gorgeous," he growled as he stepped out of his pants and pushed me against the wall.

"See," I managed to say as he pulled at my sweater. "You're jealous just thinking about someone asking me out."

"Damn straight."

Mike was the only man who'd ever been able to get my brain to shut down.

Seriously.

Every other lover I'd had in the past, even the fairly adequate ones, still couldn't keep me from thinking about a case during sex.

What can I say? My brain doesn't shut off.

Or I didn't think it did.

With Mike, it does.

It never once occurred to me to look at the clock, or ponder our first move to find Derek, or what Alex and Bobby were going to do about Carver.

Instead, I just flipped the switch for ten glorious minutes.

"See, I kept my word," Mike whispered when we finally reached our goal. "You've still got ten minutes. And I helped you get a head start on looking rumpled."

**

* * *

**

Bobby POV

I was caught completely off-guard by the dinner invitation.

Clearly, so was Alex. She stood quietly seething as the elevator took us up to the fourth floor.

I held out my hand and she handed me the crumpled paper. I smoothed it out and read the message.

The header read _**Alexandra Eames**_.

Then below it said,

_**I'd like to take you to dinner, take some time to catch up. I promise not to keep you too long. Meet me at Sixteen in the Trump Tower at nine o'clock.**_

The message didn't even provide for a means in which she could decline.

The man had some serious nerve.

Damn, I thought he would have at least waited until we found his brother before he started hitting on her. I'd hoped that during that time I could manage to subtly make known my place in her life.

Or maybe not so subtly.

Hmm…what I'd really like to do is punch him in the face and leave the wedding band imprinted across his nose.

But that would be very unprofessional.

And I was trying _very hard_ to remain professional.

This was our first case in the private sector. It wouldn't suit our image if we bombed it because I lost my cool with a client.

But I really hadn't considered for a second that Carver would hit on her quite so hard. And I hadn't been prepared for that sick feeling that had taken up residence in the pit of my stomach.

I don't know why it did, either. It wasn't like I was worried that she would leave me for him.

Maybe it was the residue from my dream.

Or maybe it was my old insecurities coming back to haunt me. I'm not sure.

But whatever the reason, I didn't like it.

And yet I didn't want to come off as overly jealous. I didn't want Alex to think that I couldn't handle seeing her receive attention from an unsolicited suitor.

I had to be more mature than that. I had to respect her more than that.

So I needed to let her take the lead.

Of course, that didn't stop me from sending her a flood of psychic signals.

"We'll both go," she said suddenly after we'd gotten off the elevator.

"To dinner?"

That wasn't exactly the message I'd been sending, but it would work.

"Yeah. We're a package deal. Carver may not know that yet but he will. Our relationship with him is strictly business, nothing more. We'll go to dinner and bring him up to speed on whatever progress we make this evening."

"Somehow I doubt he intends for dinner at the Trump Tower to be a working dinner," I remarked as we entered our room.

But I liked her proposal. And if he still insisted on hitting on her, then maybe I would get the chance to imprint his nose with my ring.

"I doubt it, too, but he'll have to get used to a little disappointment."

I watched her for a moment as she went through her duffle bag.

"Alex, you know you can go. He's a former colleague. I trust you. If you want to have dinner with him, it's okay."

She stopped her rummaging and looked up at me but her expression was inscrutable.

_That was the right thing to say, wasn't it? _

"How long did you practice saying those words in your head before you actually got them to come out?" she asked with a sarcastic tone. "Because they still didn't sound quite right. Those weren't Bobby-words."

"Maybe I should've practiced another few minutes," I admitted. "I'm serious though. I won't be mad."

She put her hands on her hips and shook her head at me.

"You should be mad," she insisted. "Although I'm probably mad enough for both of us. He treats you like you have some kind of communicable disease and then he hits on your wife. That doesn't piss you off?"

"He must not know you're my wife. It's not like we said anything."

She crossed the room and stood in front of me. She reached one hand up and ran it along my cheek.

"Don't stand up for him," she said in a soft yet firm voice. "He's an arrogant prick who probably pulled my credit report before asking me to dinner. _We_ are going or _we_ are not going. Any questions?"

"Just one," I asked as I pulled her closer to me. She raised an eyebrow at me, and I continued, "Did you pack that black leather mini-skirt you used to wear for Vice?"

"You think I should wear that to Cabrini Green?"

"No…I think you should wear it for the next twenty minutes."

TBC...


	5. Chapter 5

**Alex POV**

* * *

This was my first visit to Chicago but it didn't take long to realize that the projects are the projects no matter the city.

There was no way we wouldn't stick out as outsiders, so we did the next best thing. We armed ourselves with pamphlets from the local soup kitchen and wandered through the back streets, passing out the information as though we were volunteers for the church.

We split up, but did our best to maintain visual contact. It had been my idea to canvass individually, and I knew that Bobby wasn't crazy about it, but he'd backed me up.

He was in puppy-dog mode tonight and I could kick Carver in the ass for bringing back his insecurities.

What had Carver been thinking anyway, asking me out like that?

That was pretty damn unprofessional. I could see _maybe_ after the case was resolved, but making a play for an investigator currently working on your case?

That surprised me, because despite Carver's many annoying character traits, I did always think of him as a professional.

I wondered how much his run for DA played into it. Did he need a trophy wife? And if so, then why the hell was he coming after me?

I forced myself to focus on the task at hand. There were dealers and addicts, hookers and pimps. A few johns came and went while I perused the alleyways, but for the most part, it was a quiet night.

Really quiet. No one wanted to talk.

Any time someone would look me in the eye, then I would try to strike up a conversation, but that didn't happen very often. The anonymity that life on the streets provided was one of the only perks. There weren't many who were willing to acknowledge me at all.

But there were a few.

"Anything?" Mike asked wearily as the four of us met on a street corner. We'd been trolling the area for more than three hours.

"I couldn't get anyone to even look at me, much less the sketch," Bobby admitted. I could tell he was frustrated.

"I got three girls to look," Carolyn spoke up. "One of them recognized him as the Butcher."

"The Butcher? Carver's brother?" Mike barked out. "Oh, I get it."

"Carver didn't mention the nickname. I wonder if he knows it," Bobby remarked.

"I'm thinking there's a lot that he knows about that he's not mentioning," I added.

"Did the girl know where the Butcher lives?" Bobby asked Carolyn.

"On the streets. She said that sometimes he squats in a place on Abel."

"That's what I got, too," I said hopefully. Two people with the same story – there had to be some validity to it.

"You got someone to talk to you, too?"

At my nod, Mike spoke up.

"I think they find the women less threatening. If they only knew, huh?"

"Hey!"

I turned around and saw a young woman approaching us. She was moving slowly and drifted toward where I stood, keeping a close eye on Bobby. I gave him a look and then he and Logan moved away from Carolyn and me so that the girl would be more comfortable.

"I hear you're looking for the Butcher," she said.

"Do you know where he is?" I asked her encouragingly. She shrugged noncommittally.

"He scored some shit tonight."

"Coke?" Carolyn asked her.

"Yeah, he got some serious weight. He offered me some, but I ain't doing that shit no more."

"Where'd he get it? How'd he get the money?"

"It don't always cost money around here, lady," she said dismissively. Then she added, "Of course, money don't never hurt."

She looked away for a minute like she was done talking to us. I quickly pulled a twenty out of my pocket and held it out to her.

"How'd he score the drugs?" I asked, keeping a grip on the money even after she reached for it.

"He did some rich white dude. He went with him in a big fancy car. When he come back an hour later, he was flying high."

"Does he shoot it? Smoke it?" Carolyn asked her before I could get the words out.

Users fell into a few different categories. Drug of choice and method of partaking were important factors for narrowing our search.

"He don't do no ghost bustin' and he don't like needles."

So he snorted it. It was probably tough to find a good place to lay out a line when you lived on the streets.

"So where would he go to do his blow?" I asked her.

"I don't know."

"Abel Street?"

"Nah, too many other druggies there. They'd beat his ass and steal his shit."

"He was going to share it with you. Would he have asked someone else?"

"Oh, he wasn't gonna _give_ me any. He was gonna make a trade."

"Is there someone else he would've wanted to make a trade with?" I clarified.

She put her hand on her hip and looked around the street again.

A couple of dealers were on a far corner, but they were talking to each other and not paying us much mind.

Bobby and Mike had wandered a block away, and were being approached by a couple of hookers.

"We could use your help," Carolyn said. "We really need to find him."

"Yeah, okay. Sometimes he goes to Garfield Park."

"Okay. Thanks…um…"

"Carrie."

"Thanks, Carrie," I said as I pulled out another twenty. I handed it to her, but then Carolyn put her hand on top of the girl's arm.

"Is it normal for rich white guys to come to this neighborhood?"

"You mean aside from those two?" she asked with a nod towards Mike and Bobby.

"Yeah," I said with a smile. "Aside from those two. Richer."

"You mean the wide stance?" she asked on a laugh. "Nah, they don't usually troll the bullpen."

I looked at Carolyn and she shrugged at me, so we both looked back at Carrie.

"Cicero. That's where the starting line-up hangs. These guys here are the scrubs."

I bit back a smile and asked her one last thing.

"Did you notice what kind of car the Butcher got into?"

"I don't know cars. But it was black and it looked new. And it had those fancy things on the wheels. You know, the ones that spin even when the wheels ain't turning?"

Yeah, I knew exactly what she was talking about. Unfortunately, those things were pretty popular these days, but at least it was a place to start.

We finished up with Carrie and then walked down the block to where our guys were turning down freebies from the two working girls.

"Not tonight, ladies," Carolyn called to them. One of the women flipped her off, but they both went on their way.

"So, did you guys get lucky?" Carolyn asked Logan as we approached.

"They didn't know anything," Mike replied with a grin. "But the one girl did offer to…"

"You know what?" I interrupted. "I don't think I need to know."

"So, while you guys were over here entertaining offers to get your rocks off, we were able to get some information," Carolyn said with a smug grin.

"The Butcher got picked up in a fancy black car being driven by a rich white guy. He was gone about an hour and came back with a pocketful of blow," she continued.

"The Butcher," Mike laughed. "I can't even think that name in my head without laughing. What, is it one of those misnomers? Like a big guy being called Slim?"

"Maybe he's just the tougher of the two Carvers," Bobby said thoughtfully.

"Not much competition there," Mike added.

"Guys," Carolyn said sharply. "We've got a lead, if you're interested. The girl said that he might hang in Garfield Park."

"Not the house on Abel?"

"She said he wouldn't go there with so much stash."

Bobby checked his watch and then looked at me.

"Oh, that's right," Mike teased. "You two have a date. Go. Me and Carolyn will check out the park."

"No, we've got time. We'll all go," Bobby argued and I agreed with him.

It was seven-thirty. I wasn't too worried about having time to clean up. As far as I was concerned, I could go into Sixteen dressed in my ratty jeans and my Red Sox sweatshirt.

We all started walking toward the El station.

"Remind me to add forty dollars to our expense report," I said suddenly.

"You paid that girl forty bucks?" Bobby asked me.

"Hey, it was worth it. And she looked like she needed it. She wasn't a junkie. Besides," I added with a smirk. "It's Carver's money."

Garfield Park was a bust. Mostly. One guy there had seen someone matching Derek Carver's description, but not tonight. It had been two days since he'd seen him.

"Let's call it a night. You guys have about half an hour to get hosed off and over to the Trump Tower," Carolyn said as we left the park. "You'll never make it."

"So he has to wait. Serves him right for just assuming I'd show."

And he would have to wait. It was nearly nine when we got to our hotel room, and we both needed a shower after the evening we'd spent.

"Do you think I need to shave?" Bobby asked me as I stripped down and got in the shower.

I glanced at him over my shoulder and was hit with a wave of lust.

He still had on his jeans, but he'd gotten rid of the coat and sweatshirt so he was only in a plain white t-shirt. His hair was a mess from the wind and his unrelenting stubble had multiplied just over the course of the past few hours.

_No, don't shave, don't shower, don't change a thing_.

"Alex?"

"I…um…no. Don't shave."

"Are you sure?"

And there it was. That uncertainty again.

I went back to him where he stood in front of the bathroom mirror and from behind, I began unbuttoning his pants.

"Alex, we have to hurry."

"I know. We will. If we shower together, it'll save time."

"I don't…um…want to…"

"Don't want to what? Be late for a dinner date with Carver?" I asked incredulously. "Because he's so concerned about _your_ feelings, right?"

"He's pursuing you. He's probably prepared to pull out all the stops," he replied, suddenly very serious.

"In case you forgot, I'm already taken," I reminded him. I was having a hard time matching his gravity because as far as I was concerned, the situation was absurd.

I yanked his pants down his legs and then used my foot to work them off of his feet while I pulled his t-shirt over his head. Don't ever let it be said that I can't multi-task.

"You're letting him win," I said firmly. "You're starting to doubt yourself and you're questioning the idea that you deserve me."

I was slightly annoyed by his silence, so I grabbed him roughly and turned him around to face me. Although admittedly, it was a little difficult to stay irritated with him when we were both naked, but still…I needed to get my point across.

"Don't go backwards, Bobby. We've come too far."

"I know. I'm sorry," he said at last. He wrapped his arms around me. "I don't know what it is about him. He's always gotten under my skin."

"It's because he treats you as though you're worthless, and he does it so well that you start to believe him. That ends tonight."

Forty minutes later, we hailed a cab outside of the hotel.

Bobby's confidence was firmly intact and I had enjoyed every damn minute of the restoration.

He was in black slacks with a dark gray and black striped button down. No tie, no jacket, and he was unshaven.

It's possible that he would be slightly under-dressed for the venue, but I thought he looked good enough to eat. In fact, earlier…

"You look great," he told me, interrupting my thoughts. I glanced down at my own semi-casual attire and then smiled at him.

"How do you want to play this?" I asked him, deflecting his compliment.

"You mean, how long do I want to let it go on before we tell him we're married?"

"Something like that, yeah."

"We need to be professional about this," he reminded me.

Of course.

Sometimes I got tired of being professional. Sometimes I wanted to let loose.

Maybe I wanted to rub Carver's stuck-up nose right in the fact that I was married to Bobby.

Maybe I wanted to let him know that I would never, ever consider going on a date with him even if I weren't married.

"I know," I agreed, despite my inner wishes.

What I really wanted to do was throw Bobby down on the table right in front of Carver. Maybe that would get the point across.

"So this is a business dinner," Bobby said firmly as we got out of the cab. It sounded more like he was trying to convince himself rather than me.

"We'll discuss the progress on the case," he continued. "We'll ask him about the nickname and get a read off of him to see if he's withholding other information. And we'll give him a brief rundown of our plans for tomorrow."

"Right. And somewhere in there, we'll be sure to mention that we're married."

"Can I do that part?" he asked, his boyish grin lighting up his face. I was so glad to see him back in business.

"I would love for you to do the honors," I replied. I reached up on my toes to kiss him lightly, but then he took one hand and grabbed the back of my head, deepening the kiss.

We were still out on the sidewalk in front of the building, so I let myself relax into him and enjoy the moment.

The man knew how to kiss and my lust went from barely buzzing to sounding the alarm in short work.

Because even though I had…restored his self-confidence earlier, I wouldn't let him take the time to…let me have a turn.

So I was on edge. Really, _really_ on edge.

I just wanted to get this damn dinner over with so that we could get back to the hotel.

"Just wanted to give you a preview of things to come," he told me smugly after he pulled back. I gave him a playful shove and then took a step away from him towards the entrance.

"As long as I'm one of those things," I quipped over my shoulder. "Then…"

"Alexandra."

It was Carver. He was standing at the entrance of the building with a dour look on his face. "I was getting worried. I'm so glad you were finally able to make it."

I noticed the exact moment that his eyes shifted to Bobby.

"Counselor, I'm sorry we're so late," Bobby said smoothly as he stepped up beside me.

I wanted to kiss him for not stuttering or looking embarrassed. Hell, I just wanted to kiss him.

Carver ignored his words completely and turned his eyes back to me.

"I see you brought…Detective Goren."

He said it the way someone would say a tarantula or smallpox or anthrax.

Complete and utter revulsion.

"Actually, I didn't," I said as I reached blindly for Bobby's hand. I knew he'd wanted to be the one to tell it, but I couldn't pass up the perfect opening.

At Carver's quizzical look, I continued.

"I brought my husband."

TBC...


	6. Chapter 6

**Carver POV**

* * *

Despite my vast vocabulary, I was speechless. I couldn't think of a single coherent word to say.

_She had married that man_?

Was it possible that I'd been so wrong about her? Surely she had to know that he wasn't nearly good enough for her.

Had she simply decided that she'd been a widow long enough and so she'd snatched up the first offer she'd received?

That had to be it. _Didn't it_?

I knew I had to say something. They were both staring at me with smiling faces. And they were holding hands.

_When did this happen_?

I fell back on my impeccable manners and managed a tight smile.

"I'll have the maitre d find us a bigger table," I said finally.

"Thank you," she replied. "We appreciate that. I would have let you know sooner, but there was no phone number left with your message and the contact number in the file you gave us is the office number, I guess. There was no answer."

"It's no trouble at all," I assured her. I led the way back into the building and we rode the elevator in awkward silence.

I knew I needed to congratulate them, but I didn't want to. I was well aware that it was a childish response, but there was no way I was going to offer any well-wishes to that man.

I swallowed my pride and made the necessary arrangements to change the table for two to a table for three.

After holding out a chair for Alexandra, Goren bent down and kissed her on the cheek.

"Excuse me for just a minute. I'll be right back," he told her. And then he gave me a nod and went in search of the restroom.

Finally.

_Alone_.

"So, how long have the two of you…" I couldn't say the word. I refused to say the word.

"We got married last month."

I perked up slightly at the news.

Only a month? Maybe it wasn't too late. Maybe she'd seen the error of her ways and was just waiting for a better candidate.

"It's a shame that you didn't come to Chicago sooner," I told her suggestively. I watched her expression as my meaning became clear.

"I don't think it would've made any difference," she said carefully. I sat back in my chair, unable to contain my surprise.

"Really?" I asked her. "No difference at all?"

Was she _not_ understanding what I was saying?

"Counselor," she began.

"Ron," I corrected.

"Counselor," she said again. "I am happily married. _Very _happily married. But to be honest, even if I weren't, it wouldn't change anything between you and me."

"You do understand what I'm proposing, right?"

"I believe you're looking for a wingman for your run for District Attorney."

"That's an interesting way to look at it."

"I'm trying to be diplomatic here," she said, and she seemed to be getting frustrated. But yet she was proving my point.

"I realize that. It's part of what makes you so attractive."

She sighed and looked around the room. She was looking for _him_. I bit back my annoyance, and plowed forward.

"Alexandra, I would like to pursue a relationship with you," I told her. I leaned forward over the table and spoke in a hushed tone that Phoebe had once told me was seductive. "I think we would make a hell of a team."

"See, that's just it," she replied. She put both hands flat on the table and gave me what almost appeared to be a disingenuous smile.

"I'm already part of a team," she continued. "You might not have known that earlier, but you know it now. And at the risk of damaging our working relationship, I have to say that I'm sickened by the idea that you're continuing with your pursuit."

She was starting to get angry, but I wasn't ready to give up.

Surely she could see that I was a better catch. I could offer her a much better life than that…that…exasperating miscreant. How much trouble had he caused for her over the years?

"I don't want you to feel like you're stuck in a bad situation. You hit your forties, you wanted a husband, and so you settled. I get that. But I can help you. We can get it annulled, and…"

"A bad situation?" she said loudly as she stood up from the table. Oh, this was not going nearly as well as I'd hoped.

And considering the scene she was making, maybe she wasn't as refined as I'd thought, either.

"Everything okay, honey?"

He was back.

Great.

* * *

Bobby POV

As I crossed the restaurant, I noticed Alex's face go stormy. Whatever Carver had just said, he should be damn grateful that she wasn't packing.

I quickened my pace so that I could reach her in time to defuse a scene, but just before I reached the table, she stood up quickly.

"A bad situation?"

"Everything okay, honey?" I asked. I placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, but she didn't pull her eyes away from Carver.

"Fine," she ground out. "I think it's time for us to leave."

Wow, he really had pissed her off if she was going to walk away from a client. But I sure as hell wasn't going to stop her.

"Alexandra," Carver spoke up somewhat apologetically. When she ignored him and stepped away from the table, he tried again. "Eames."

"It's Goren," she snapped. "And no one calls me Alexandra except my grandmother."

Now most of the patrons in the restaurant were watching us, and Carver was clearly mortified.

This scene was probably even worse than him finding out we were married. At least he could hide that humiliation on the inside.

This one was front and center for everyone to see.

"Detectives, please," he said, very nearly begging. "Please sit down."

I could literally feel the anger rolling off of Alex as she stood still and debated her course of action. It seemed that every person in the restaurant was holding their collective breath to see what she would do.

After a long moment, she gave a curt nod and went back to her chair. I sat down next to her and immediately held her hand under the table. Then I turned to Carver.

"We'll let the Logans finish out this case," I told him firmly. Then I lowered my voice, and added, "I'm not sure what was said, and it's probably for the best if I don't know right now. I would hate for you to get blood on your…interesting…silk tie."

"Detective, there's no need for threats," he interjected, clearly struggling to regain his composure.

"Oh, there's a need," Alex spoke up. "Only I don't need for him to do it. I'll do it myself. If you ever suggest something like that again, you'll have to worry about more than just your tie getting bloody. Are we clear?"

"Crystal," he said evenly. His eyes shifted from Alex to me and then back to Alex. He was playing a good game at being calm, but he was still rattled. I loved it.

"My apologies for misreading the situation," he continued. "But please, I would like it if all four of you stayed on the case."

"I don't really give a flying…"

"Alex," I interrupted. I squeezed her hand and she turned to look at me. I didn't say anything more, but we communicated nonetheless.

_Breathe, _my look said_._

_I'm breathing, _she assured me with a nod_._

_We can stay or go. It's up to you._

I watched as she took another breath and made up her mind.

Alex had a hell of a temper, but she could usually get it under wraps and revert back to her professionalism.

I so admired that about her.

I often tended to let my emotions get the best of me, although I was getting better about that.

Case-in-point: Carver wasn't bleeding.

Yet.

"We'll stay on the case," she said at last.

"Good. Thank you. I appreciate that," he gushed.

A waiter cautiously approached the table.

"Can I bring you something to drink?" he offered.

Carver made a move to pick up the wine menu, but I didn't wait for him. The restaurant was Italian and I'd already held my tongue earlier as I'd listened to Carver slaughter the language while speaking with the maitre d.

"Un litro di vino Pio Cesare Barolo, per favore," I told the waiter.

He smiled and nodded at my selection and then hurried off. I think he was still slightly afraid of Alex.

"You speak Italian, Detective," Carver stated in barely-masked surprise.

"I know a thing or two about more than just guns."

He held my gaze for a moment, and looked down to adjust his napkin.

"I'm sure that you do," he responded dismissively. "So, how goes the search for my brother."

"You mean, the Butcher?" Alex asked sharply. Oh yeah, she was still hot.

"So you're making progress," Carver replied cautiously. He was still off his game and he was obviously uneasy with the tension at the table.

"You knew about the nickname," I stated. "It might have saved us some time."

"What else are you holding back?" Alex questioned. "Because you're wasting our time if we have to keep tracking down leads that give us information you already have."

"I didn't think the nickname was important."

"Not important? His _street name_ isn't important?"

She was getting worked up again, and I thought it might be a good idea for us to take our leave.

Whatever Carver had said to her earlier, combined with his continued arrogance was a powder keg. With the sparks Alex was giving off, things were going to blow up quickly.

Alex took a deep breath and looked at me. I had no trouble reading her mind.

_Take over before I kill him_.

"Okay Counselor, here's the thing. You fill in the holes. Tonight. Or we're going back to New York. All of us - the Logans, too. You can find your own damn brother."

"The Logans…I know you said that before, but…"

"They're married, too," Alex told him. "Why, was Carolyn next on your list of potential wives?"

"Absolutely not. She's much too…"

"You need to watch what you say," I warned him. I pinned him with a glare until he squirmed in his chair and gave me a nod. Then I added, "Last chance before we walk."

"Derek used to run with a gang," Carver said on a sigh. "But that's been more than twenty years. And I know that before when he was into drugs, he didn't mind doing…whatever was necessary…when he didn't have money to pay for them."

"So he would pimp himself out for coke," Alex clarified. Carver closed his eyes and gave us a sharp nod.

"Are you familiar with the man that was killed? Or with the suspect being charged with the murder?"

"I don't know any of those people."

Alex sat back and rolled her eyes and sighed loudly. The waiter brought our wine and after offering me the sample, he poured a glass for everyone. Alex drank hers like a shot, so the waiter refilled it before leaving the table.

"The Logans were going to run through the hospital and morgue records tonight, just to be sure," I told Carver.

I decided the best course of action was to get the briefing out of the way and then we could leave. There was no way we were sitting through a meal with him.

"Although we did have reports of him being seen earlier today so that's a good sign," I continued. "Tomorrow we're going back to Garfield Park and then we'll check out the flop house on Abel. Those are our two best leads right now."

Alex's glass was empty again, so I filled it for her and topped off my own. I took a sip of it and then leaned closer to Carver.

"We're not staying for dinner. And I don't think there's any need for us to provide you with a daily progress report. We'll be in touch when we find him."

"There's no need to be petty, Detectives," he replied, his condescending tone back in place. "Stay and enjoy a good meal. I've apologized for the misunderstanding."

"That wasn't a misunderstanding," Alex countered. "That was you being a pretentious jackass. You can take your meal and shove it up your ass."

I gave her points for keeping her voice low, but she stood up as she finished her sentence, so I stood as well. I reached across the table to shake Carver's hand.

When he grasped it with his own, I clamped down firmly.

"She might be the one with the temper, but that doesn't mean I won't come after you if you say one word to her that's not business related. Capisci?"

"Are you threatening a prosecuting attorney, Detective Goren?"

"Absolutely. And if you don't believe I'll make good on it, then just try me."

TBC...


	7. Chapter 7

**Alex POV**

* * *

I was sure that at some point in my life, I'd been this mad.

I just couldn't think of when.

I was so completely outraged by Carver's audacity that I couldn't even think straight.

I left the table, and I'd thought Bobby was right behind me, but after I went a few steps, I realized that I couldn't feel his presence. I turned to see him gripping Carver's hand across the table and speaking in a low tone.

I didn't have to hear him to get a feel for the words. But whatever the words, if they didn't include _kill_ and _six-feet-deep_ then they probably weren't strong enough to suit my needs.

I paused mid-way through the room and waited for Bobby to catch up. When he did, he took me by the hand and gave me a roguish smile before leading me the rest of the way out of the restaurant.

We didn't speak until we got onto the elevator.

"Well, that was fun," I said when the doors closed.

"Are you okay?" he asked, bringing our joined hands up to his lips. He placed a lingering kiss on my knuckles while he held my gaze.

"I'm fine. I'm sorry that I acted so…"

"Don't say it. You weren't the one being unprofessional. You let him off easy as far as I'm concerned."

"So did you."

"Did you want me to hit him?" he asked me with a grin. "Because we can go back up…"

"No, I'm sure your threat will make him have to change his pants," I joked. "Did you see the look on his face? He thought you were going to physically pull him across the table."

"You asked him if Carolyn was next on his list of potential wives. He wanted…"

"He offered to help me get our marriage annulled," I told him. The words had barely left my mouth before he reached out and hit the stop button on the elevator.

"We are going back up," he said firmly. And he wasn't smiling anymore.

"Bobby, I took care of it."

"He really said that? That he could get it annulled?"

"Yeah, but he's full of shit. First off, he was presuming that I would want to, which I don't. Aside from that, there's no basis. We weren't drunk at the time. It's been more than thirty days. And we've definitely consummated the marriage," I reminded him.

I was tired of being angry. I didn't want to waste more time on Carver. Tomorrow we'd get back on the case, but tonight we'd earned a little down time.

"We have done that," he agreed, and he slowly reached out to restart the elevator.

"Although, maybe we should…you know. Consummate it again," I suggested as I stepped into him. I ran my hands along his neck and into his hair. "Just to be sure."

"One can never be too careful," he added, wrapping his arms around my waist.

He leaned down to kiss me, but the elevator had come to a stop on the main floor and the doors opened up. He paused with his lips a fraction away from mine for a moment longer, and then he smiled and pulled back.

"Are you ready to go back to the hotel?" he asked me.

"To two double beds? Yeah, that should be interesting," I agreed as we went through the lobby and out onto the sidewalk.

"You know how I feel about beds," he reminded me. "They're so unrefined," he added using his best Carver accent.

I laughed out loud at his dead-on impression, and then I brought his arm around my shoulder so that I could snuggle against his side.

The laughter and the cold, fresh air was working wonders on my mood. Of course, being held by Bobby didn't hurt at all either.

"Maybe I'll pay up on that bet tonight," I offered in a husky voice.

He'd been reaching up to hail a cab, but his arm faltered at my words and he looked back at me quickly.

"Yeah?" he asked with unabashed interest. "Which part?"

"Get us a cab and then maybe you'll find out," I replied.

Within a minute, we were settled into the backseat of the taxi. Bobby had offered the driver an extra twenty if he could get us to our hotel in less than ten minutes.

"After all," he told me with a wink. "It's Carver's money."

The cabbie did us proud. We were in the lobby of our hotel in seven minutes. Bobby started making a beeline for the elevators, but the aroma coming from the restaurant caught my attention.

"We never did eat," I reminded him when he turned to look at me after I slowed my pace. "I'm starving."

"So am I," he replied in a low voice. His eyes deliberately swept over me from head to toe, causing my stomach to do a series of flips.

Was food really all that important? Seriously?

"Let's go," I agreed, tugging him once again toward the elevators.

"We'll order room service," he promised as we got on the elevator.

The doors closed and I didn't hesitate. I shoved him up against the mirrored back wall of the car and brought his head down for that kiss that he'd denied me earlier.

"There's probably cameras," he murmured when I broke my lips away from his and instead started in on his neck.

"I don't care. They don't know us here."

"Alex…"

"What?"

"This is our floor."

I looked at the reflection of the doors in the mirror and saw that they were open on the fourth floor.

"I don't know," I replied with a smile. "I think I like the mirrors."

He leaned down close and whispered in my ear, "Maybe you are a good match for Carver."

And then he took off running. I chased him down the corridor to the door of our room where he let me catch him.

I pinned him up against the door and grabbed a fistful of his shirt.

"I cannot believe you said that," I said, but I couldn't keep from laughing. I loved that he'd been able to make a joke about it. And he was right. The man did have an insane obsession with his own image.

"I love the sound of your laugh," he told me, suddenly serious again as he bent down to kiss me.

And then he turned us around so that I was the one against the door. He held his hands flat against the wood on either side of my head and kept the rest of his body firmly against mine.

"We should…probably go…inside," I managed to say, although I wasn't all that concerned. The hallway was empty at the moment, and he was doing that thing with his tongue…

"Probably," he agreed, making no move to get his key.

I shifted my head to the side to give him better access and he pushed his hips harder against mine.

"You should've worn a dress tonight," he mumbled as he moved his hand into my hair, grasping the strands and angling my head to his liking before moving in to capture my lips again.

I loved that he was taking control.

I loved that he knew what he wanted.

I loved that _I_ was what he wanted.

I just flat out loved him, and having the idea thrown at me that I could be with someone other than him…well, that just made me love him even more.

"I didn't want Carver looking at my legs," I said breathily when he moved down to work his mouth over the exposed skin at my collar bone. I could feel his chuckle rather than hear it.

"Good idea," he answered and then he picked me up and brought me up to his eye level.

My legs wrapped around his waist and the change of position increased the friction between us so much that I was near the breaking point. And we were both still fully clothed. It was crazy.

"Let's go inside," I said again. Then I added in a hushed tone, "I need you…"

With a grace that only Bobby possessed, he pulled out his key and swiped the lock while keeping me held firmly in place.

"Hold on to me," he whispered as he turned the knob.

_As if I would ever let him go…_

I put my arms around his neck and he moved an arm under my butt to hold me up while he took us through the door. He let it slam closed behind us and then threw the lock into place.

"Decisions, decisions," he muttered as he turned around in a slow circle. "Our options are fairly limited."

The room was a standard hotel type with two double beds, a dresser with a TV on it, a small round table, and a hard chair.

"I know. There's no trapeze…no treadmill…how are people supposed to have sex in this room?" I teased.

My comment earned me a toss onto the bed. I landed inelegantly on my ass, but I only bounced once before Bobby was on top of me.

"You think you're funny, don't you?" he asked as he stretched himself out over me.

"Maybe," I said with a smile. He began working the buttons on my blouse with one hand while his other hand raked through my hair.

"I love you," he said, once again serious. He rested his eyes on mine and my heart melted just a little more. They were so expressive, so beautiful.

He finished with the buttons and then shoved the material aside so that he could run his warm hand along my skin. He shifted down and let his lips follow along the same path.

I settled my head back against the pillow and let out a contented sigh. I ran my fingers through his hair and along his face, loving the scratchy feel of the two-day stubble.

But as good as everything felt, it wasn't enough. I was too on edge. I had been all evening.

I reached for his shirt, but I couldn't get to all of the buttons because he'd moved too far down. He chuckled at my impatience and sat up for a moment to remove the obstructing garment. I followed him up and tugged at the t-shirt, pulling it up over his head.

Then I stood up and unhooked my slacks. I stepped out of them and my shoes at the same time. Bobby kept his eyes on me, so I made a point of taking it slow.

"Don't stop there," he said in a raspy voice. "Keep going."

He stood up and walked closer to me, but he didn't touch me. He waited for me to finish taking everything off and then his eyes tracked over me inch by inch.

It almost made me self-conscious.

Almost.

But his expression while he did so was one of admiration.

Adoration.

_Worship_.

I was tingling from head to toe and he hadn't even touched me in several minutes.

And then when he did touch me it was like electricity. He ignited a fire in me with just the barest stroke of his hand, and I was nearly done for.

"You need to lose the pants," I told him in a voice that brooked no argument. "Right now."

He smiled at me and held his hands out to his sides, so I gladly took over the task.

"Easy," he reminded me as I hastily unzipped the slacks.

"I would never damage the goods, honey," I told him without slowing down. I grabbed the boxers right along with the slacks and pulled them down his legs, and then in a move similar to earlier today, I used my foot to work them off of his feet.

Because I had better things to do with my hands.

He sucked in a deep breath, tipped his head back, and then let out a long low moan that damn near finished me off.

"If you keep doing that, it'll all be over but the crying," he warned me. He brought his eyes back to mine and the intensity in them was staggering. He was losing his hold over his control.

Then he grabbed me by the wrists and put them behind my back as he once again attacked my lips.

He kept kissing me as he walked me backwards until I felt the table against my butt. I thought he was going to set me on it, but he didn't.

Instead, he turned me around and bent me over until I felt the cool surface of the table against my flaming skin.

"Is this okay?" he asked. I knew he'd stop if I wanted him to, even though it would probably take every ounce of willpower for him to do so.

But why in the world would I want him to stop?

"Don't…even think…about stopping," I ground out. I gripped the far edges of the table with my hands and closed my eyes.

An hour later, we were sitting on the bed with a room-service pizza between us.

I was wearing Bobby's t-shirt, which was my attire of choice, and he was in his boxers.

"Tomorrow we need to go back to Garfield Park," he remarked as he started on his third slice.

"I think that's going to be our best bet. There or the street corner where he was picked up today. Maybe we should split into twos tomorrow and stake out both locations."

"That's a good idea. You think he's involved with the murder?"

"I think that Carver thinks he is," I responded. "That's why he wants to find him. He doesn't care about helping him. Carver only cares about himself."

"And you."

I threw a pepperoni at him, but he just smiled at me and put it in his mouth.

"I don't think we have to worry about that," I told him. "My husband scared him pretty good."

"Yeah? Well, I'm going to make him bleed pretty good if he comes after you again," he joked.

"You're kind of hoping he does, aren't you?" I asked him with a curious smile. Bobby usually avoided physical violence, but I had a feeling that this would be one of those rare exceptions.

"A little, yeah," he admitted with a sheepish grin. I noticed that he had a smudge of pizza sauce on the corner of his mouth.

"Me, too," I told him as I set down my pizza and leaned closer to him. I wiped his mouth with my thumb and then brought it to my lips, but he caught my wrist. He pulled my thumb into his mouth and sucked it clean.

That simple action had me ready for round two.

He must have recognized the look on my face because he tossed the rest of his slice into the box and then shoved the box onto the floor.

"We forgot about the bet," he said.

"We seem to forget about everything in the heat of the moment," I countered.

He still had my wrist in his hand and he took his time bringing each finger into his mouth one by one.

"Let's finish it," he suggested. "Only we'll say that you won."

I looked up at him, and my heart skipped a beat again. He was so sexy with those soulful, deep brown eyes. His hair was rumpled from where I'd run my fingers through it and his skin was marred from my lips...he was perfection.

"Yeah?" I asked him. Of course, I'd still hold up my end of the bet later, but for now...who was I to argue?

"Yeah. Definitely."

TBC...


	8. Chapter 8

**Carolyn POV**

* * *

I could hear Mike's laughter echoing through the lobby so I quickened my pace.

I'd sent him on ahead to meet up with Alex and Bobby while I stopped by the hospitality room to grab coffee for everyone.

But clearly, I was missing out on the recount from last night.

"He said that? Annulled?" Mike asked as I approached.

I was glad to see that Alex and Bobby were just as amused by the story. Whatever had happened during the dinner, it at least must have ended well.

"Yeah, well I am in my forties now," Alex said with a smile. "Thanks," she added as I handed her a cup of coffee.

"You're in your forties?" I questioned, waiting for the explanation of relevancy.

"Carver said that he understood why I rushed into a marriage," she explained with a sarcastic lilt. "I've hit my forties, I was lonely…"

"So how bad is he hurt?" Mike asked with interest.

"We let him live," Bobby replied. "For now."

"I think he got the message," Alex added.

"Was he properly humiliated?" I asked.

Because if anyone deserved public humiliation, it was Carver.

"Well between having to ask for a bigger table, having Bobby show him up with his Italian, and then us walking out on him before even ordering a meal, I'd say yes."

"And don't forget how you had the whole restaurant staring when you jumped up from the table and yelled at him," Bobby added.

Mike shook his head and looked at me.

"I knew we should've gone," he told me. "We could've gotten our own table, away from the action…"

"Yeah, well then we wouldn't have gotten any work done," I reminded him.

"How'd the search go?" Alex asked.

Mike and I had gone through the hospital and morgue records. We were looking for John Does that vaguely matched Derek's description.

"We actually got two hits. The morgue has one unidentified victim who was brought in around eight o'clock, and Cook County General has a comatose patient who was hit by a car at five-thirty."

"Both men fit our general parameters," Mike added. "We figured we would check them out first before we go to the park."

"Assuming that neither of the John Does is Derek," I added.

"Right."

"We need to go back to Cabrini Green, too," Alex said as we walked out of the hotel. We were all back in our street clothes rather than business attire. We stuck out amongst the upper class patrons of the hotel, but we would be fine in Cabrini Green.

"We should split up so we can spend more time at both locations," Bobby suggested.

It was exactly what I was thinking, except that I had a feeling that my groups of two weren't the same as his.

"You and Logan should go to the park. Me and Alex will go to Abel Street and then back to the corner where Derek was picked up yesterday."

"That's a good idea," Alex agreed as we got on the El. "No one wanted to talk to you guys yesterday."

"Uh huh," I said. "I think you're both too big. You come off as a threat."

Bobby and Mike looked at each other and both shrugged.

"Okay," Mike said. I'd thought that at least one of them would argue with me about it, but they didn't.

"Sounds good," Bobby added. "We'll hit the morgue and the hospital, and then we'll go our separate ways."

"So you're both fine with the plan?" I asked, although I was looking at just Mike.

"Hey, you don't have to convince me that you can take care of yourself. Alex either."

"Yeah, but what about you two? Can you handle Garfield Park by yourselves?" Alex teased.

"We'll be fine," Bobby said with a grin. "Just be sure you don't get picked up by any rich white guys."

"I don't think that'll be a problem," I replied. "We're the wrong gender."

"Which reminds me," Alex said. "Carver said his brother used to be in the habit of selling himself for drugs. I don't know how that helps us, but it's good to know. He also admitted to knowing the nickname."

"Why the hell didn't he tell us?" Mike asked in annoyance.

"He said he didn't think it was important."

"What a jackass," I mumbled.

I don't know how Alex had kept her cool. Well, at least she'd reined it in for the most part anyway. The fact that Carver still had all of his teeth meant that she'd kept her true feelings in check.

We found the morgue and talked our way into the storage room, but it was a bust. The man did look vaguely similar to Derek Carver, but it was definitely not him. We thanked the bad-tempered ME and went on our way.

"Anyone else missing Rodgers right about now?" Mike asked rhetorically as we left the morgue at Northwestern and headed for Cook County General.

We got to the hospital and went into the emergency department. According to the records last night, the John Doe had not yet been admitted.

The admit desk was a ghost town. Of course, it was nine o'clock on Sunday morning. I would imagine that would be a slow time for a hospital ER. Or slower than a weekend night anyway.

Whatever the cause for the lack of visible employees, it was good for us since I doubted that anyone would willingly provide information. Although we didn't really need any _information_. We just needed to see him.

The ME hadn't asked us why we wanted to look. I think he was just hoping someone would claim the body. I was pretty sure that the hospital wouldn't be so accommodating.

We all started wandering around, surreptitiously peeking behind curtains and through any exam room with open blinds.

I was half expecting to be approached by security, but instead I heard a doctor call out to us.

"Are you looking for someone? We don't usually encourage people to roam through the ER," he said in a disapproving voice.

"I'm sorry," I said quickly, and I stepped up closer to him so that I could talk while the others continued to search.

I glanced at his name tag and held out my hand.

"Dr. Carter. I'm Carolyn Logan."

He shook my hand hesitantly and then looked over my head. I obviously wasn't distracting him enough.

"I am looking for someone, yes," I continued. "You have a patient here that was hit by a car yesterday?"

"Are you a relative?"

"No."

"Are you a cop?"

"Um…no."

"Then that's confidential information. I'm curious to know how you even know that he's here."

"So he is…still here," I remarked with a smile. He frowned at me and shook his head.

"You and your friends need to leave before I call security."

"I'm not asking for you to break doctor-patient privilege. I just need to see him."

"And I'm saying no."

An ethical doctor. What were the odds? Better than finding an ethical lawyer, but still…

"How about if I show you a picture and then you tell me if that's your guy. I don't care who your patient is as long as he's not the person I'm looking for."

"So you're…what, a private investigator?" he asked, warming up slightly. "All of you?"

"That's right," I said as I offered him the photo of Derek Carver.

"I'll look at your photo," he agreed with a nod. "But they need to stop looking in my exam rooms," he said, pointing his finger over my head.

I turned and motioned them over, and then the doctor took a look at the photo.

"It's not your guy."

"You sure? Your patient was hit by a car. He's probably pretty messed up."

"I'm sure," he said as he handed back the picture. "Now…out."

"Thanks," I told him. "We really appreciate it."

"Yeah, that's great. But don't come back to my ER again, okay?"

"No problem, Doc," Mike told him, having arrived in time to hear our dismissal. "So it's a no?" he asked me as we left.

"It's a no. Although that doctor was pretty cute," I added, just to tease Mike. "If we had doctors like that in New York, I might get checked out more often."

"Ha ha, funny girl," Mike replied, putting an arm around my shoulder. "I think you've got all you can handle with your good-looking private dick."

"I think you're exactly right," I agreed with a smile, secretly thrilled that he'd actually paid himself a compliment.

We climbed the stairs to the El and waited for the train. I didn't like splitting up with Mike and Bobby, but we all felt that it was a necessity.

But still…it was going to be a long day.

* * *

Logan POV

I walked through the park with Goren keeping my eyes peeled for the Butcher.

There was a fair amount people scattered about, mostly homeless but a few health nuts as well. We made our way from one end of the park to the other, but we saw no sign of Derek.

"I wonder if the girls are having any luck," I muttered as we made our second pass.

It was too damn cold to be wandering around outside all day, but since it was our best shot, I guess I had to suck it up.

It wasn't like it was just me – we were all out in it. I was glad Carolyn had put a hat on because the wind was unforgiving.

"Alex should be checking in soon. She said she'd call at one."

"It was probably a bad idea to come out so early. This place will pick up after dark," I commented.

"Yeah, but he has to go somewhere during the day. And he's less likely to be vigilant in the daylight hours."

"That's true. Hey, look over there," I said suddenly when a movement across the field caught my eye.

There was a lone bench at the edge of an unkempt grassy area. We'd seen the bench on our first pass and at that time it had been empty.

Now it wasn't.

Of course, we were too far away to get any kind of visual confirmation.

"Let's check it out," he agreed.

We made our way across the field. The bench faced the other direction, so the person's back was to us.

Goren tapped me on the arm and made a motion to show me his intended path. I gave him a nod and then he made a wide circle so that he was coming at the bench from the other direction.

By this time, the individual had shifting to a lying down position. He must have had his eyes closed, because he made no move to get up despite the fact that Goren was clearly visible.

As he got within ten feet, Goren looked up at me and gave me a nod.

_It was him_.

"Derek Carver?" he said loudly as he continued closing in on him.

The man bolted off the bench so fast that I almost missed him.

Almost, but I didn't.

I laid him out with a pro-style tackle and as we were going down to the ground, I thought randomly that I was glad he wasn't a needle user because that would really suck to get stuck with one of those things right about now.

"Hold still, man!" I shouted as he wriggled underneath me.

"I ain't gonna say nothing!" he yelled out in fear. "Leave me alone!"

"I'm not going to hurt you. Quit moving and I'll let you up," I told him.

"Just leave me alone!"

"Your brother sent us," Goren spoke up as he approached. "We're private investigators."

Derek slowed his movements, and I finally eased off of him and stood up. He rolled onto his back and looked up at us.

"Ronny sent you?"

Goren and I shared a look of amusement_. Ronny_. I'd have to remember that one.

"He's worried about you. Why did you think we wanted to hurt you?"

"They've been after me," he replied. He still hadn't made any move to get up from the ground, so I held my hand out and helped him stand.

"Who is _they_?" Goren asked.

"Cabbage's guys."

"Cabbage?" I asked. Was this guy still high? Or had he completely fried his brain?

"Caleb," he said. "Caleb Freeman. He goes by Cabbage."

"He's the guy charged with murder," Goren said. We'd seen that name in the file.

"Did you see the murder? Is that why Cabbage is after you?"

Derek nodded.

"He told me not to say nothing. I said I wouldn't. The cops didn't even know I was there. But then Benji got popped and he told them about me."

"That's how your brother knew you were in town. He recognized you from the sketch," I told him.

"Ronny don't care about me. He sent you to find me so that he could make me disappear," he said.

Goren and I shared another look. Disappear as in kill or just literally disappear? I shook my head. Carver wasn't a killer, and he certainly wouldn't pop his own brother.

"So what is it that you have on Cabbage? He's already charged with the murder. How is your testimony going to change anything?" Goren asked him.

"He's saying it was an accident. But it wasn't," he told us.

"How do you know?"

The sound of gunshots through the quiet park was completely unexpected. My reaction time was less than stellar. Three shots sounded and it took me that long to hit the deck.

"Can you see where it's coming from?" I asked Goren from my position on the ground. I was stretched out on my stomach with my hands over my head. The grass was fairly tall, so unless the shooter approached us, we were probably safe.

"Goren?"

He responded with a groan that sent a jolt of fear through me.

I looked up and saw him flat on his back. The blood stain on his shoulder was expanding rapidly. _Holy shit_.

I glanced over at Derek as I scrambled towards Goren. The blood and gray matter surrounding the Butcher's head told me everything I needed to know.

"Shit, Goren," I yelled as I pulled back his coat to assess the wound. I was up on my knees now and if the shooter was still out there then I was going to be toast, but that was a risk I had to take.

I jerked his coat from his shoulder and pulled the shirt back as well. The blood was pumping out an alarming rate.

"God damn it, the bullet caught the fucking brachial artery," I said.

The wound wasn't actually to his shoulder like I'd first thought, but the blood had spread that far. The bullet had gone in a little lower down on his bicep and it continued to gush.

"Just push on it," he ground out. I knew it had to hurt, especially since I was jerking on the clothing around it to get to the entrance wound.

"Is he dead?" he asked me. "Derek?"

"Yeah. I guess we weren't the only ones tracking him."

"Mm," he mumbled.

"Keep talking, Goren. Come on," I shouted. "Shit!"

He let his eyes close as I whipped off my belt. I put it around the top of his arm, as high as I could get, and then tightened it, forcing a hole through the leather to hold it in place.

The bleeding slowed some, but not nearly enough. I pulled off my shirt and folded it up and then pressed down hard on the point of entry.

When I did that, he let out a yell that I will hear in my head for a very long time.

It was all I could do to keep the pressure on because I knew that it had to hurt like hell, but it was a necessity.

"Hey! You need some help?"

Finally! I looked up and saw a man running towards us with his cell phone in his hand.

"Call 9-1-1!" I shouted.

"Talk, Goren," I said again.

My heart was pounding so hard that I was afraid I was going to have a heart attack. Literally.

I've seen people shot before, and I've been in similar situations, but damn…this was Goren. "Talk, damn it!"

"Quit yelling," he said at last.

"I'm going to keep yelling unless you're talking."

"Alex is going to be pissed."

"Yeah, at me," I said. As though on cue, his cell phone rang.

"Ambulance is coming!" the bystander called out to me.

He ran over closer and then stopped at the sight of Derek with his head blown off. Then he turned to look at me and Goren briefly before turning around and puking in the grass.

I didn't blame him. Even discounting Derek, me and Goren were both covered in blood. _His blood_. Shit.

"I'm not going to get that. I'll call her when we get you on the ambulance," I told him.

"She'll keep calling. Get it."

"Goren," I argued. I didn't want to move my hands.

"Get it."

I let up with one hand and reached for his phone. I pushed the button and then tucked it between my ear and my shoulder so that I could put both hands back on the dressing.

"Yeah," I said. I tried so hard to make that one word come out sounding calm, but my voice cracked. I couldn't even say the _one damn word_.

"Mike, what is it?" she asked quickly.

"Uh…we found Derek. But he's dead."

"And?" she asked, and I could hear the panic rising. She knew something was up.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

"And Bobby got shot."

TBC...


	9. Chapter 9

**Alex POV**

* * *

"Where?" I yelled into the phone.

For a split second, I thought my legs were going to give out on me as fear raced through my system.

But now wasn't the time for panic.

I grabbed Carolyn by the sleeve and started running toward the El station.

"Upper arm," he said. "I think the bullet nicked his artery, but I've got the bleeding slowed down."

"Is he awake?"

"Off and on," Mike replied.

"Which is it now? Off or on?" I snapped at him.

Carolyn and I were running full speed now, and we were only a block from the station. She hadn't asked any questions, but she clearly recognized my urgency.

"Uh…he's out right now. Here comes the ambulance. _Hey! Over here_!"

"Which hospital?"

"I don't…shit." I heard a scrambling sound. He must have dropped the phone. "Uh…okay. I don't know yet."

I waited as I heard Mike talking to the paramedics.

"_Get your asses over here! That guy's DOA! He's got an entrance wound to the right upper arm, possibly caught the brachial artery. He's lost a lot of blood. He's been unconscious for just over a minute." _

He's been out for over a minute and he's lost a lot of blood. _Oh my God, this was not happening_.

"Mike, what fucking hospital!" I shouted.

I was coming unglued. Carolyn took the phone from me and I sagged against a column on the El platform and put my head in my hands.

_He's going to be fine_. _Keep it together. Do not cry. _

I felt Carolyn's hand on my arm just as the train came to a stop in front of us.

"Come on. They're taking him to County."

We got on the train, and I noticed that she still had the phone to her ear.

"Mike's still on?"

"Yeah," she replied as she handed it back to me.

"Mike? How's he doing?"

"He's…uh…he's…he's holding his own."

"Mike," I began. "Don't…don't…let him…" My voice broke and I couldn't finish, but he knew what I was trying to say.

_Don't let him die._

"Don't say it. I won't, okay? I promise."

I kept him on the line and listened to the paramedic calling out Bobby's vitals to alert the team of doctors waiting at the ER. The siren wailed in the background.

It felt like a really, _really_ bad dream.

"Is he still out?" I asked, half afraid of the answer but needing to know all the same.

"Yeah. He...uh…he hasn't said anything since you called."

"Are you almost to the hospital?"

"I don't know…_hey! Are we almost there_? Yeah, the guy says we're two minutes out."

"Stay with him until I get there. Don't let them kick you out."

"I won't leave him."

I closed my eyes and listened to the background noise again.

I couldn't remember how long the ride was from Cabrini Green to the hospital. We'd just made the trip in reverse a couple of hours before, but I'd already forgotten.

Surely it hadn't taken nearly as long as it was taking now.

"Alex, we're getting ready to pull up. I'm going to hang up now, okay?"

"Yeah," I said, even though I didn't want to lose the connection. I couldn't talk to Bobby but Mike was looking at him, so talking to Mike was the next best thing. But I knew he had to go. "Yeah, okay."

I put my phone back on my belt and looked at Carolyn.

"This is bad…Mike said he's lost a lot of blood," I said quietly.

My heart wasn't pounding out of my chest like I would've thought.

Instead it felt like it was barely beating at all.

She didn't try to tell me it would be okay, or that he was tough and he'd pull through. She just put her arm around me and we stood together in silence.

An eternity later, the train stopped near Cook County General. We flew off the train and down the stairs and into the back entrance of the ER.

"I need information on a gunshot victim just brought in," Carolyn said loudly. I was glad she was taking over. I wasn't sure if my voice was even still working.

"Have a seat, ma'am, and someone will be with you in a minute."

"I'm not fucking having a seat!" I shouted. Yeah, so my voice did work.

"Alex!"

It was Mike. He stepped out of a room halfway down the hall to our right and motioned us over to him.

My relief at seeing him was immediately overridden by horror when I realized that he was covered in blood.

_Bobby's blood_.

Again, my knees went weak, but I forced one foot in front of the other. Although the closer I got to Mike and the trauma room behind him, the more I slowed my pace.

I have never been more frightened in my entire life.

_What if this was it? _

What if I got there and they said that he…that he didn't…

"They're working on him," Mike said, stepping up closer to me. "We need to let them work."

"Why aren't you in there with him?" I asked him crossly. Then I raised my voice even more. "What the hell happened out there?"

I shoved him in the chest and then because it felt good, I did it again. And again. He stood with his hands at his sides and took my abuse.

"Mr. Logan, I'm ready for you," a nurse said. She gave a quizzical look at my continued violence against him, but she didn't say anything more.

"Ready for what?" I asked, stopping quickly when her words registered. "Are you hurt, too?"

"He needs blood," Mike explained. "I'm A-positive," he added.

He gave Carolyn a look and a nod and then followed the nurse over to a nearby gurney and held out his arm. He was only wearing a t-shirt.

As rational thought trickled back into my brain, I realized that his other shirt was probably used to staunch the blood flow.

He'd probably used his belt, too.

He'd most likely saved Bobby from bleeding to death.

And now he was giving him blood.

"It's fine, Alex," Carolyn said. She was close beside me and was apparently reading my mind.

I was speechless. I'd just beat on the man who had done everything he could to save my husband.

And now I was too damn scared to even go through the trauma room doors.

I caught Mike's eye from across the room and another realization hit me. He was just as scared as I was. He loved Bobby, too, and he was the one sitting there covered in his blood.

The doors next to us suddenly flung open and the doctor we'd met earlier this morning stepped out of the trauma room.

"We need that blood in here!" he shouted at the nurse. She unhooked the bag that she'd just filled from Mike's arm and tossed it to him before hanging another one.

"Dr. Carter!" Carolyn called out. The doctor turned and looked at Carolyn and the recognition was immediate.

"I knew he looked familiar," he said with a shake of his head. "Come on, he should be waking up as soon as we get this blood going."

We followed him into the trauma room and I stopped short inside the door.

It was a lot to take in, seeing your husband like that.

His shirt had been cut off of him and there were monitors and tubes and wires everywhere. There was an oxygen mask over his mouth and nose but that was actually a good sign.

He was breathing on his own.

I watched as Dr. Carter gave the blood to a nurse who promptly hung it on a mayo stand and got it hooked to the appropriate tube.

Within seconds, Mike's blood was pumping into Bobby.

"The bullet went into the tricep and it's resting up against the humerus," the doctor told us. "I put a few sutures in to repair the artery, and as soon as we get him stabilized, I should be able to remove the bullet down here in the ER. Hopefully that will take care of it."

"So no surgery?" Carolyn asked.

"I don't think so. The bullet looks intact, so if that's true, then I should be able to pull it out without any trouble. We're going to take another x-ray just to be sure, but the priority of course is to get him conscious. What's his name? Your other friend seemed a little disoriented."

"Bobby," I spoke up. "Bobby Goren. He…um…so, he's going to be okay?"

"Oh, he's going to be fine. We'll put him on some antibiotics to ward off any infection and I definitely want to keep him overnight, but as long as the sutures hold and nothing unusual shows up on the x-ray, then he should be good to go in the morning."

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Years had come off of my life in the past half an hour. _What would I do without him_? I didn't want to find out.

"Thank you," I said without opening my eyes. Carolyn put her hand on my back and encouraged me to step closer to the gurney.

"You okay?" she asked me quietly. I had no doubt that the color was completely gone from my face.

I nodded, afraid to speak my reply. Now that I had some assurance that he would be okay, I knew the tears were soon to follow.

"I'm going to go check on Mike, if you're sure."

"I'm sure. Go. And tell him…please, tell him thank you. And that I'm sorry."

"So you're with him?" Dr. Carter asked me as Carolyn turned to leave.

"He's my husband."

"Come up here, then," he encouraged, motioning his hand toward the area next to Bobby's head. "You can talk to him. He should be coming around any minute."

I walked around the edge of the gurney and forced my eyes away from everything but his face. One of the nurses brought me a stool, so I sat down next to his head and ran my fingers through his hair.

I could feel the emotion bubbling up inside of me. I was about a minute away from a complete breakdown.

But for once in my life, I didn't care.

I was on his left side, so I kept one hand in his hair and with the other, I carefully reached down and grabbed his hand.

"Bobby," I said, surprised by how rough my voice sounded. I cleared my throat and said his name again. He didn't open his eyes, but he did move slightly.

"Back off on the oxygen and recheck his SAT," Dr Carter told one of the nurses.

She pulled the mask from his face and set it aside. Everyone in the room seemed to focus on the digital output which showed his oxygen saturation level.

"That's looking good," the doctor said as the number held fast at ninety-eight. He turned around and stood at the other side of Bobby's head. "Open your eyes, Mr. Goren."

"Second unit's up," the nurse said. Second unit. _More of Mike's blood? _I wasn't sure_. _They didn't usually take so much from a person at one time, but I wouldn't put it past Mike to have insisted.

I rested my forehead against the side of Bobby's head, and held his hand and prayed. Prayer wasn't normally my thing but in a situation like this, it seemed like the right thing to do. I'd done the same thing with Joe…

_And look how well that had turned out_.

Maybe it would be better if I didn't pray. Instead, I just begged him over and over in my head to please be okay.

Because I wasn't sure I could handle being a widow again. And it wasn't the idea itself of being a widow, it was that it was different with Bobby.

I really, _really_ loved him.

I could not for one second imagine going through the rest of my life without him.

"He'll come around," the doctor assured me as he checked the wound yet again. He seemed pleased with what he saw and then he caught my eye and told me, "Give it some time."

So I did.

I was vaguely aware of everyone moving around me, but I mostly focused on Bobby. It almost seemed like he was asleep, and yet I knew that he wasn't.

I had a lead weight in my stomach and an ache in my heart and while it almost felt like the same situation that I'd gone through with Joe, it wasn't the same. I didn't remember feeling quite like this. I didn't remember feeling like I wished it were me instead of him.

"Bobby," I said again. _Please open your eyes_, I begged silently.

It was amazing how different time could feel depending on the situation.

When Bobby was making love to me, hours passed like minutes.

While I was waiting for him to open his eyes, it was the complete opposite.

It felt like I'd been in this room for days, when in actuality it had probably been less than thirty minutes.

And then he did it. He opened his eyes.

He opened those beautiful brown eyes that I love so much and settled his gaze on mine.

Relief flooded through me and the tears immediately began to fall, but then he started to shake and a fresh wave of panic rolled over me.

"Bobby?" I asked uncertainly. At his continued trembling, I looked sharply around the room. "Doctor!"

"It's a normal reaction to the transfusion. It'll pass," Dr. Carter promised me as he checked over Bobby's vitals again. Then he turned to one of the nurses and said, "Sam, bring in another blanket for Mr. Goren."

The nurse tucked a second blanket around Bobby as he continued to shiver and he looked at me with a pleading expression.

"I'm so cold," he said softly.

"I know honey," I said quickly. "They're going to warm you up."

His eyes darted around the room briefly before returning to mine. "I…I got…shot."

"Yes, you did," I agreed as the tears came harder. He let go of my hand and reached up to my face to wipe them away, but they were coming too fast.

"I'm okay," he assured me. _He_ was going to reassure _me_.

Well, at least he didn't apologize. That thought had me struggling to contain grateful laughter. My emotions were all over the place.

I sat with Bobby until the shakes wore off and he didn't feel quite so cold. Again, I had no concept of the passing of time, but it didn't matter.

He was awake, and he seemed okay, so that was all I cared about.

After awhile, Dr. Carter came back into the room and I waited patiently while he ran through a brief series of cognitive tests, and then he stepped back and draped his stethoscope around his neck.

"Mrs. Goren, I'm going to need you to step out for a few minutes while I get that bullet out, okay? He's going to be fine. He's not showing any signs of diminished capacity due to blood loss, and he seems to be tolerating the transfusion just fine."

I leaned over and kissed Bobby on the lips. I was reluctant to pull away, but I had to let the doctor do his job.

"I love you," I whispered to him.

I'd realized belatedly that I hadn't said that to him today.

_He_ _could've died today without me having told him._

"I'm fine," he said again, reaching his hand up to brush the hair back from my face. "I love you, too."

I stepped out into the hall and stopped to breathe. For a whole minute.

Then I went to find Mike and Carolyn.

They were in a family room with a couple of Chicago cops. They were questioning Mike about what had happened, but everyone stopped talking when I walked in.

"Alex?" Carolyn asked expectantly.

"He's awake. They're taking the bullet out now. He's going to be okay."

Mike let out a deep breath and ran his hand over his face. His eyes were bright with unshed tears and he was still wearing the same bloody clothes, but I walked straight over to him and hugged him. Hard.

I didn't say anything and neither did he, but sometimes with family, words aren't required.

TBC...


	10. Chapter 10

**Logan POV**

* * *

I can't describe what I felt from the moment I realized that Goren had been shot until I stepped out of the trauma room when I heard Alex's voice.

Timelessness, inadequacy, hopelessness, fear, panic…

It had seemed as though I was pushing my limbs through jell-o, trying to make them work faster but failing miserably.

So when Alex shoved me in the chest, I was grateful. It was the least I could do. It gave me purpose.

_Hit me again_, I said silently.

"Mr. Logan, I'm ready for you," a nurse said. Alex slammed into me two more times before the words penetrated.

"Ready for what?" she asked. "Are you hurt, too?"

_If only_. If only it would've been me instead.

"He needs blood," I told her. "I'm A-positive."

A rare gift from my mother. If her passing along her blood type to me meant that I could help save Bobby's life, then maybe I might forgive her for everything else she did to me. This just might make up for it.

I looked at Carolyn, briefly seeking out her silent strength, and then followed the nurse over to a nearby gurney. I sat down and held out my arm.

"I can only take a pint from you," the nurse told me quietly. "If he needs more, we can get it from the blood bank."

"Use mine," I said firmly. I didn't want a stranger's blood in him, not when there was the choice to use mine.

"We will," she told me as she slid the needle into my arm. "One pint."

"You keep taking it as long as he still needs it," I said. "When I run out, then you can get some from the blood bank."

She shook her head at my stubbornness, but I ignored her and watched as Alex and Carolyn stood outside of the trauma room doors.

I had a feeling that I knew why she wasn't going in. I knew she'd already lost one husband. From a gun shot. The fact that she was even still standing on her feet was a testament to her strength.

She looked at me from across the room and I tried to school my features.

I didn't want her to know that I was scared.

I didn't want her to know how badly I was shaken up by the sight of Bobby lying on the ground with blood pouring out from him.

I didn't want to acknowledge the fact that I finally, _finally_ had some family and yet I had very nearly let one of them die.

_On my watch_.

But she knew.

Suddenly, the doors next to her flung open and the doctor who'd been working on Goren came out of the room. He was the one who Carolyn had called cute. I only prayed he was also competent, although I did have to give him credit. He had appeared efficient and knowledgeable and very much in charge when we'd first arrived on the ambulance.

"We need that blood in here!" he shouted at the nurse. She unhooked the bag that she'd just filled from my arm and tossed it to the doctor before hanging another one.

"One more," she told me. "That's it, okay?"

I shrugged noncommittally. I wasn't going to agree to anything until I knew how Goren was doing.

I watched as Carolyn spoke with Dr. Carter and then the three of them went into the trauma room and the doors closed behind them.

The nurse finished with the second unit, and since no one had come out screaming for it, I relaxed a little. She handed me a bottle of orange juice accompanied by a strict look which said _drink it_, and then left me where I sat and took the blood into the trauma room.

About that time, Carolyn came out.

I hadn't realized how alone I'd felt until I saw her walking towards me. My feelings were close to the surface, and I hated it, but if there was ever a time to be allowed to have a breakdown, this was it.

"Are you okay?" she asked quietly as she wrapped her arms around my neck and pulled me to her.

"How is he?"

"Things are looking good," she told me.

"Is he awake?"

"Not yet, but the prognosis is good. Are you alright? How much blood did you give?"

"I'm fine," I deflected. "I'll give more if I need to."

"Mike," she whispered as she held me tighter. "It's not your fault. You can't shoulder the blame for this."

"You don't know what happened," I argued.

"Tell me."

"Mr. Logan?"

I pulled back from Carolyn's embrace to find two Chicago cops looking at me. I had given the paramedics my name when I insisted on riding along instead of waiting for the police.

There would've been a second ambulance sent to pick up Derek's body, and I had known that there would be questions, but I couldn't just wait at the park.

"Yeah, that's me."

"We'd like to go over your statement as to what happened in Garfield Park."

"Can you give us a few minutes? Our friend is still in the trauma room," Carolyn snapped with irritation. "We're not going anywhere."

"The shooter is still out there," one cop reminded her gently. "The longer it takes to get your story, the less likely we are to catch him."

She sighed heavily, but I put my hand on her back.

"It's okay," I told her quietly. Then I looked at the officers. "We can talk now, but if they need more blood…"

"That's fine," the officer agreed. "There's a quiet room down the hall. We can have some privacy."

I stood up on shaky legs and held onto Carolyn as we followed the cops down the hall. I leaned on her more than I would've liked, but I had blackness around the edges of my vision and I was afraid that if I was left to my own defenses, I'd be on the ground.

As we walked, I debated the merits of telling the truth.

Did I want Chicago PD to search for Derek's killer? If they caught him, they'd take him to jail. I wasn't sure that I was okay with Bobby's shooter just going to jail. I thought that maybe I'd like to spend some time with him first.

Would it hurt to tell a little white lie that might buy us a head start on the investigation?

I couldn't seem to think straight and I couldn't make a decision and the black spots were creeping more and more into my field of vision…

"So," one officer began after closing the door to a family room. This was a room where people were told that their loved one had died. This was not a room I wanted to be in.

But my legs weren't cooperating and I sat down hard in an orange plastic chair. I put my hands down on my thighs and dropped my chin to my chest. Carolyn stood beside me and put her hand on the back of my neck.

"Who's the dead guy and how do you know him?" the officer finished.

Lie? Or tell the truth?

Without looking up, I opened my mouth to speak, but Carolyn took over.

"He didn't know the guy. Mike and Bobby were in the park and approached the victim to ask him a few questions."

And there was my answer. Because if Carolyn was going to lie, then it must be the right thing to do this time.

Because they would undoubtedly i.d. Derek, but it would take a little time. And while they were waiting for their ME to get around to it, I could be pounding the pavement looking for Cabbage's gang.

I lifted my head and looked the nearest officer in the eye.

"And we didn't get a chance to say anything to him," I added. "We stopped him, and then the shots were fired."

"How many shots?"

"Three."

"You're sure?"

"Yes."

"Did you get a look at the shooter?"

"It's kind of hard to see when your face is planted in the dirt," I replied sarcastically.

I recognized my response for what it was. Defensiveness. I didn't see the shooter because I'd dropped to the ground and ducked my head while my friend was getting shot.

_Fucking coward_.

"Before the shots, did you see anyone suspicious in the park?"

"Like a guy walking around with a rifle? No."

"So it was a rifle?"

"I don't know," I admitted. "It sounded like a small caliber, but I couldn't tell if it was a handgun or a rifle. And it echoed, so I can't be exactly sure where the shooter was located."

"I'm sure there were bullets in your DOA," Carolyn reminded them smartly. "You can get your information from them."

"Were there any other witnesses?" I asked them. It would be good information for us if they would admit that there were others who had seen.

"The man who called 9-1-1. He waited for us to show," one officer said as he gave me a pointed look. The unspoken end to that sentence was _like you should have_.

I stood up quickly, and while my equilibrium protested the motion, my temper kept me grounded.

"Hey, my friend was shot, okay? I was a little busy trying to save his life, so I wasn't thinking about proper protocol. Besides, you obviously knew where to find me."

"Proper protocol…you knew the sound of a small caliber weapon being fired…tell me again what you guys are doing in Chicago?"

"Why, do we have to register with the police before coming into the city?" Carolyn retorted.

"We're on our honeymoon," I told them. "We like to travel to random big cities and check out the parks where dealers hang. We get a big rush out of it."

"Mr. Logan, we're trying to help you find out who shot your friend."

"No, you're not. You're questioning us because you have no idea what you should be doing instead," Carolyn replied.

She was in full-on protective mode, so I knew I wasn't fooling her with my _I'm okay_ act.

The officers both took offense at her comment. One of them stood up fully and adjusted his weapon where it was holstered on his belt.

"Ma'am, we don't need you in on this. We're here to question Mr. Logan."

I could feel her bristling beside me, so I thought it would be best to wrap things up quickly. We were both on edge waiting for news on Goren, and it wouldn't do us any good to pick a fight with the locals.

"Look, officer," I began. "We're investigators from New York. We were hired to find a local man, and we had word that he hangs out in the park. My friend and I were asking around, we approached your victim to speak with him, and that's when the shots rang out. Three, in rapid succession. I didn't see anyone suspicious prior to that or after, and…"

The door to the room opened and I stopped talking. Alex stood there, pale as a ghost, but still holding it together.

"Alex?" Carolyn asked.

"He's awake. They're taking the bullet out now. He's going to be okay."

I let out a deep breath and ran my hand over my face. I felt like crying, but I didn't want to break down in front of Alex.

But my good intentions flew out the window when she walked over to me and hugged me so tight I could barely breathe. But that was okay. I was just grateful that she seemed to forgive me for what I'd let happen.

I couldn't speak as the tears rolled down my face, and she didn't either. I could feel the wetness of her tears soaking into my t-shirt. We stood there like that for several long minutes until I felt her breathing change as she struggled to pull herself together.

After another moment, she pulled away and then Carolyn took her by the hand and sat with her on a couch. The cops were gone. I guess Carolyn had shooed them away.

"How long?" she asked her. "Did they say?"

"Dr. Carter said he'd find me when he finished," Alex replied with a shrug.

With the immediate crisis over, I started thinking about the case.

Someone wanted Derek dead. Because of his potential testimony? He was going to blow Cabbage's theory about the previous murder being an accident?

We didn't even know the identity of the original victim. Carver hadn't mentioned it. Was it related? Was there a massive cover-up going on?

I had no idea, but I had a feeling that Carver knew a lot more than he was saying. And if his silence had caused Bobby to get shot, then there was going to be hell to pay.

"I'll be back in a little while. Call me when there's news," I told Carolyn and Alex.

"Mike, where…" Alex began, but then she stopped. I could tell by the look on her face that she knew exactly where I was going.

"I'm coming with you," Carolyn said as she stood up.

"Stay here with Alex," I told her.

"I don't need a babysitter," Alex argued.

"I don't either," I said firmly.

I met Carolyn's gaze and we battled for a moment. I knew she understood my need for an emotional outlet, and I knew she'd come to the same conclusion that I had about Carver.

Or course, maybe she wanted to come so that she could witness what I was about to do to him.

"Don't get arrested," she said at last. "I mean it. We need you."

I leaned down and kissed her hard, and then placed a quick kiss on the top of Alex's head.

"I won't. I'm going to get information, something we should've had to begin with. Call me."

I was out the door before they could argue further.

I trotted down the hall, and cast a glance toward the closed doors of Goren's trauma room as I passed.

_Take care of my brother_, I said silently to no one in particular.

And then I left the ER and went to the El.

Forty minutes later, I was at Carver's office.

It was Sunday afternoon, and it was probably wishful thinking that he would be here, but it was a place to start. Besides, someone as ambitious as Carver probably rarely left the office.

The lobby was open and there was a security guard sitting at the receptionist's desk.

"Can I help you?" he asked me cautiously. He stood up and put his hand on the butt of his weapon, and that was when I realized that I was still in my bloody shirt.

I held my hands out from my sides so that the guard would know that I posed no danger.

"I'm here to see Mr. Carver," I stated.

"Is he expecting you?"

Good, he _is_ here. And since I hadn't identified Derek to the cops, I knew there was no way he'd been notified yet. He wouldn't have any idea what was going on, so he would probably agree to see me.

"Tell him that Mike Logan needs to speak with him."

I held my breath and waited while the guard called upstairs. The conversation lasted longer than it should have, but eventually, the guard hung up and nodded his head.

"Fifth floor," he told me.

I rode the elevator up and got out on Carver's floor. There were a couple of secretaries working, but none of them even glanced at me.

I hustled down the hall and unceremoniously flung open his door.

"Detective," he said in surprise as he stood up from his desk. He gave me a curious once-over and then gestured for me to sit down. I held my ground in the doorway. "Henry said you looked a mess, but somehow I didn't have you pictured adequately."

"You probably assumed I looked my usual mess," I replied smartly.

Just the sight of him was pissing me off. He'd made a hard play for Alex even after she told him she was married. He'd withheld information about the case, and then admitted to knowing additional facts.

And my money said he was still holding back.

If that was the case, I might not be able to keep my promise to Carolyn.

I just might get arrested.

"To what do I owe this unexpected visit?"

"We found your brother," I told him. I wanted to shock him. I wanted to see his expression. "He's dead."

"Derek is dead?" he asked calmly. "Are you sure?"

"Am I sure that it's Derek, or am I sure that he's dead?" I asked in disbelief. At his continued stare, I added, "I spoke with him. And then he was shot. Right in front of me."

"That's terrible, Detective," he replied in a tone that belied his words.

"I just told you that your brother is dead. Is that all you have to say? Or did you see it coming?"

"He lived on the streets. It's not exactly a surprise."

"You see this as a good thing, don't you?" I accused. My emotions from the past couple of hours were now overtaken by anger. "I bet you're standing there right now trying to decide exactly where to hang your mirror in the DA's office, aren't you?"

"That's a despicable thing to say."

"But true though, isn't it?" I asked as I took a step inside the room and closed the door behind me. "Did you know about Cabbage?"

The police report Carver had given us didn't mention the name Cabbage. It only had the man's real name.

But Carver's reaction to my use of the street name told me what I needed to know.

And that pushed me right over the edge.

I shoved a chair aside as I crossed the room and when I got to Carver's desk, I swept everything from the surface.

"Detective!" he shouted. I rounded the desk and grabbed him by the throat and then backed him into the wall.

"You knew about Cabbage," I accused hotly. "You knew his gang would be looking for Derek, trying to kill him. You knew and didn't tell us, right? You had us thinking we were trying to rescue him from drug use. We're out on these streets _unarmed_ while gang bangers are trolling the same streets _trying to kill him_."

"Mike!"

I should've known Carolyn would come.

And it was probably a good thing. Getting arrested for assault was one thing. Murder was another.

And right now, I wanted nothing more than to kill Carver.

"Say it," I continued, although I did let up on the pressure slightly. "You knew what kind of trouble Derek was into, didn't you? You knew he had a target on his head."

"I thought that he might, yes," Carver admitted reluctantly in a raspy voice.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" I shouted, and then I punched my fist into the wall next to his head. He winced at the nearness of the blow, but didn't verbally respond.

"Why didn't you tell us?"

That was Carolyn. She'd moved in behind me, and I could tell that she was pissed, too.

Maybe I _would_ get to kill Carver.

Maybe now I'd just have help hiding the body.

"I was hoping…that it wouldn't…get out. I thought that…if you could…find him, then I could…get him out of the city."

"You're still just worried about the damn election. Well you know what? Even that would've been fine if you'd _let us know_," I growled at him as I once again increased the pressure on his throat. "We would've taken more precautions."

"Bobby was shot," Carolyn piped in. "He got shot while talking to your brother."

Carver was damn lucky that his expression was properly remorseful. If he'd shown any sign of…just about anything else, I would've been done with him.

"I didn't…consider that," he said with his eyes downcast. "Is he alright?"

"Do you know Cabbage's gang?" I asked him. He didn't deserve to know how Bobby was. Hell, he was probably hoping for a bad outcome so that he could go after Alex again.

"I know…some of them, yes."

"I need names. All of them. Everyone who may or may not be involved. I want his grandma's name and his third cousin twice removed, got it?"

"I understand."

"So I'm going to let you go, and you're going to sit down at your desk and get busy writing names."

"I'm…yes…I will."

I let him go and stepped back from him. He promptly moved away from me and rubbed his hand on his neck.

"I could have you arrested for assault," Carver threatened. "Destruction of public property, threats against a public official…"

"You call the cops," I told him with a nod. "I've got quite the story to tell them about how one of their ADAs sold out his own brother."

"Or," Carolyn interjected as she stepped between us. I knew she was afraid that I was going to go after him again. She's an astute woman.

"Or you can give us our information and we'll be on our way."

"But the case is over," he countered. "I hired you to find my brother. You found him."

"If you think we're leaving Chicago without catching the jag-off who shot Bobby then you've lost your mind," I told him. "And we're billing you for every minute until we catch the guy, so get busy making our list."

Carver grabbed a pen and paper and began writing, so I flopped down in one of the visitor's chairs. I was completely drained and I was a bloody mess.

Carolyn and I would stop by the hotel after we left here so that I could change, and then we were going back to Garfield Park.

TBC...


	11. Chapter 11

**Alex POV**

* * *

Mike left me and Carolyn alone in the family room.

Great, now I was going to worry about Bobby _and _Mike.

Because I knew damn well where he was going and it would be a miracle if Carver survived the encounter.

"How are you holding up?" Carolyn asked me.

"I'm fine," I stated vaguely.

I checked my watch for the third time and wondered how long it would take Dr. Carter to remove the bullet.

He'd said it would be a simple task, so why the hell wasn't he done yet?

What if the sutures couldn't withstand the pressure of the blood flow?

What if they ruptured while the doctor was fishing out the bullet?

More blood loss, potential nerve injury, irreparable muscle damage…

"Alex."

"Yeah?" I asked, tearing my eyes away from the spot on the floor at which I'd been staring since Mike left.

"Let's get out of this room," she said. She pulled me to my feet and we walked out into the hall.

"I don't want to go far. I need to be here…"

"I know. Let's just take a short walk."

"Did Mike tell you what happened?" I asked her. I still hadn't heard the whole story.

"They found Derek Carver. They'd just started talking with him when he was shot."

"So Bobby was just in the way."

"Yeah. Mike didn't see anyone. And of course, he thinks that this is all his fault."

"I know," I sighed. I felt bad for having unloaded on him like I did. "I'm sorry. You know I don't blame him…"

"Of course not! I know that. I know that you were just upset. But you know…he's never really had any family, and you know how much he loves both of you. He feels like he let you guys down."

"So he thinks that Carver knew about this, right? About what might happen?"

I might not have all of the details yet, but I knew how to read the writing on the wall.

"I think so, yeah."

"Then you need to go."

If Mike suspected that Carver was still withholding information and Bobby was shot as a result, then that meant serious trouble.

"What?"

"You need to go after him."

She hesitated, and met my gaze with uncertainty. I knew that she was torn between wanting to be supportive of me and wanting to save Mike from himself.

"I'll be fine. I promise. Like you said, we need him. I don't want to have to stay in Chicago while he goes on trial for murder, okay?"

"Um…yeah, okay," she agreed. "Call me when you know something. And don't just sit here by yourself. Call your sister or Rodgers or somebody, okay?"

"I will. Go."

I watched as Carolyn hustled out of the ER and then my short-lived bravery crumbled.

I sank onto one of the many plastic chairs that lined the walls in the ER waiting room and sucked in a quivering breath.

I hated to wait.

I pulled out my phone and saw that I had two missed calls from Cathy. I debated for a moment, and then dialed a number.

"Hello."

She was one of the few people I knew who still sometimes answered her phone the old fashioned way. No last name, just _hello_.

"Liz. It's…Alex." My voice broke at merely the idea of telling someone what had happened.

_Shit, Alex, pull it together_, I chastised. But that was a whole lot easier said than done.

"Alex, what's wrong?"

"Are you busy?"

"No," she replied quickly, although then I heard a muffled _get out_. I could easily picture her in an autopsy suite, kicking out her staff so that she could have privacy.

"You're working on a Sunday," I stated rather than asked. It felt good to try to have a normal conversation while I tamped down my emotions.

"So are you, I'm guessing," she said. "What happened?"

"I'm…in Chicago…and um…Bobby got shot."

It helped me to tell the story, especially to a doctor. When I finished, her calming voice went a long way towards helping my emotional recovery.

"It sounds like a best-case scenario, Alex. No general anesthetic, hopefully no damage to the bone, a good reaction to the transfusion...I don't have to tell you that it could've been a lot worse."

Liz knew about Joe. She'd seen the report when his investigation had been reopened a little over a year ago. And of course, I'd shared some of his less than stellar qualities with her on my wedding day.

So she had an idea of what this was doing to me.

"Bobby's not Joe," she said quietly. "In any way whatsoever. You know that. And I'm sure it's hard to keep from having the two situations meld together, but remember that it's just that. Two separate situations."

"I know," I said. I felt better already just from having talked with her. Good enough, in fact, to start worrying slightly about what Mike and Carolyn were into.

"Mrs. Goren?"

I looked up and saw Dr. Carter standing across the waiting room.

"Liz, I've got to go. The doctor's done."

"If you need anything, you call me back."

"I will," I told her as I crossed the room. "I promise."

I hung up and looked at the doctor anxiously.

"It went well," he said as he guided me toward the trauma room. "The sutures have held, and I was able to get the bullet out. I did have to retrieve a small bone fragment that apparently chipped off on impact from the bullet, but overall, he looks good."

We paused outside the door and I found myself waiting for the bad news.

_He looks good, but…_

I continued to watch him expectantly.

"It's good, I promise," he said with a smile. "There doesn't appear to be nerve damage. He's got feeling and movement in all of his fingers. I'm guessing the shooter was from a good distance away because the bullet must have been traveling at a low velocity. Or it may have even been from a ricochet. That, or your husband has extraordinarily strong bones."

"So, he's good?" I asked even though he'd said it twice already.

"He's good," he assured me with a hand on my shoulder. "We're going to get those antibiotics started and keep him overnight, but really…I don't anticipate any further complications. As soon as we can, we'll move him out of the trauma room. He's going to need an immobilizer sling for a week or so to keep the arm still while the muscle heals, but I'll go over all of that with both of you during discharge. Go in and see him. I'll be back."

He pushed the door open and held it for me as I went into the room.

Bobby had his eyes closed as I walked up to the gurney, but he opened them when I got close.

"You are exactly the person I was hoping to see," he said softly. He held up his left hand to me. I grasped it immediately and then leaned down to kiss his cheek.

"The doctor says it went well," I told him. "They're going to move you to another room pretty soon."

"I don't care where I am as long as you're here," he replied. He sounded exhausted and slightly out of it. The doctor hadn't mentioned pain medication, but surely he was on some type of narcotic.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I asked him. That would give me a better feel for his lucidity.

"We found the Butcher," he said. "But we'd only talked with him for a minute before the shots were fired. Is he dead?"

"Derek? Yes."

"Where's Mike?"

"He went to talk to Carver."

Bobby immediately tried to sit up in the bed and I had to push my hand on his shoulder to keep him back.

Yeah, he was lucid.

"He's going to kill him, Alex. Derek mentioned that a guy named Cabbage is probably after him. He's the guy charged with the murder. He didn't want Derek to testify. Carver had to know all of that."

"Is it gang-related?" I asked as I kept my hand against Bobby's shoulder. He gave up the fight and instead leaned his head back against the bed.

"I think so. I think that Cabbage's posse was after Derek. That's probably who shot at us."

"And Carver knew," I stated with a nod. And I thought I'd hated him when he wanted to annul my marriage. Now his single-minded ambitions had gotten Bobby shot.

It was Carver's good fortune that Mike and Carolyn had gone after him instead of me.

I just hoped that Carolyn hadn't caught up with Mike too soon.

"I don't think he meant for this to happen," Bobby said quietly. "I don't think he considered that the two things would happen at once."

I watched Bobby carefully as a bolt of pain must have gone through him because he squeezed his eyes shut and sucked in a breath.

"You need to settle down," I told him. "We'll handle this. You need to worry about getting better."

"I'm fine," he said through gritted teeth. "What did Logan tell the cops?"

"I'm not sure," I admitted.

"Carver thought that either we would find Derek, or Cabbage's gang would. I'm sure he never anticipated that the two things would happen at the same time."

"What, so you want to let him off the hook for this?" I asked him. His capacity for empathy and compassion never ceased to amaze me.

And sometimes, like right about now, it even pissed me off.

"I'm not saying that," he said softly.

And just as quickly as it had come, my ire was gone.

_I could've lost him today_.

Derek had been killed. Bobby and Mike were both right there beside him. I could've lost them both.

And I was going to be mad at Bobby for being Bobby?

"I'm sorry I snapped at you," I said. I kissed his cheek again. "It's been…I'm just…I'm sorry."

"It's okay, honey. I know this had to be hell for you. I'm sorry to put you through it."

I would've laughed at him if he weren't being so sincere. This had been hell on _me_.

"And I know what you're thinking," he continued, a ghost of a smile on his face. "But you know what I mean. You had to be feeling quite a bit of déjà vu."

"I…did…somewhat, yes. But it's not the same," I told him, my voice cracking for the millionth time today.

I leaned in close again and rested my cheek against his. I put one hand on his heart and then whispered into his ear.

"It's not the same, Bobby," I murmured. "Nowhere near it."

"Hey now, he's doing good, but not that good!"

I looked up to see that Dr. Carter had come back into the room. He had a smile on his face and was pointing his finger at me.

"Don't get him all excited," he warned, although I could tell he was teasing. "I don't want that blood pumping too hard through that sutured artery."

I smiled and sat back onto the stool that was next to the bed, but I kept my hand on Bobby's chest.

I liked being able to feel his strong heart beat.

"Okay, Mr. Goren, you're lab results look good. The nurse will be here in just a minute to move you down the hall. She can give you another dose of morphine if you want."

"No, I don't want any more," Bobby declined.

"Bobby, it won't hurt you to take it for a little while."

"I don't need it," he insisted. "Ibuprofen is fine, Doc."

"Ibuprofen it is, then," Dr. Carter replied as he made a note on the chart. "If you change your mind, it's not a problem, okay?"

Bobby nodded, and so he continued.

"Try to get some rest. I'll be down to check on you in another hour."

"Okay, thanks," Bobby said.

"Yes," I said as I stood up. I held out my hand to him, and he accepted the shake. "Thank you very much, Dr. Carter."

I sat back down after the doctor left, but before we could resume our conversation, the nurse came in. Preparations were made to move Bobby to another room, so I stepped out into the hall briefly and checked with Carolyn.

"Everything went fine," I told her when she answered.

"So he's okay?" she confirmed, and I noticed that she sounded ruffled.

"Yeah, they're putting him into a room now," I answered. "What's going on?"

"Nothing," she said quickly. "Carver gave us a list of a dozen names of Cabbage's known associates. He swears he doesn't know the original victim, but we've got the name and we're going to check that out, too."

"Where are you guys now?"

"At the hotel. Mike is…" she trailed off and I knew what she didn't want to say.

_Mike was changing into clothes that didn't have my husband's blood on them_.

"Is he okay?" I asked her.

"He's fine."

"Carolyn," I said firmly.

I needed for her to trust me. It wasn't in any of our natures to trust easily, but the four of us relied on each other, and the openness needed to be across the board.

I heard her sigh heavily.

"He's barely holding it together," she admitted finally. "He had a stranglehold on Carver when I caught up to him."

"I'd like to strangle Carver myself," I muttered. And I would, too. And I'd like to use one of his ugly-ass ties to do it.

I wasn't going to be upset with Mike for taking out his hostility on Carver, but we couldn't afford for him to be a loose cannon. And I didn't want him to shoulder the blame for what had happened, either.

"Bring him back here," I added.

"To the hospital?"

"Yeah. He needs to see that Bobby's okay so that he can refocus."

"Okay. Yeah, I'll do that. We'll be there as soon as we can."

TBC...


	12. Chapter 12

**Carolyn POV**

* * *

I hurried after Mike as he stormed out of the office building.

"Mike, slow down," I said. He turned around and looked at me as we stood out on the sidewalk.

He was probably madder than I've ever seen him, and if I didn't know him as well as I did, his anger might have frightened me.

"That bastard knew something serious was going down. Look at this," he shouted, shoving a piece of paper in my face. "Twelve names. Twelve people he knew and yet didn't mention. And we need to pull up the information on the victim of the murder that Derek witnessed. Maybe this is a cover-up of that. Is it a coincidence that Derek went off with a rich white guy and then came back with enough blow to choke a horse on the day before he was killed?"

He took off again in the direction of our hotel, but he was still in a tirade.

"Maybe the killer was funneling him to where he wanted him to be. Maybe he knew Derek would end up at Garfield Park so that could snort his shit. Maybe…"

"Mike," I said again as I jogged after him.

He was out of control.

I knew that he was upset about Bobby, and I sure as hell wasn't going to condemn him for how he'd treated Carver, but right now I needed to get a handle on him.

And I wasn't sure if I could. Because I wasn't doing so great myself.

"I need to get cleaned up so that we can go back to Garfield Park," he continued. "Somebody there had to have seen something."

"Mike!" I shouted for the third time.

And my voice must have had enough urgency in it because I finally got his attention.

He stopped.

We were three-quarters of the way between Lake Shore Drive and our Michigan Avenue hotel. It was damn near twenty degrees outside and he was still walking around in his t-shirt. I didn't know what had happened to his coat, and I wasn't about to ask, but I did need him to start thinking rationally.

Everyone had been leaning on me all afternoon, and that was fine. They'd needed me.

But I could only take so much.

I could only be the strong one for so long.

This scare today, with Bobby getting shot…when Alex first called Bobby's phone, I didn't know what to think.

She'd started running and I knew that something was wrong, but I also knew that she would've responded immediately no matter if it was Mike or Bobby.

My first thought was _please don't let it be Mike_.

It wasn't a conscious thought that I wanted it to be Bobby.

It wasn't like that.

I just _didn't_ want it to be Mike.

And when it turned out that Mike was safe, I didn't feel the overwhelming relief that I expected. Because even though Mike was okay, Bobby wasn't.

_His _life was in danger. So I still felt sick.

I still felt helpless. I still felt devastated.

Because I loved him too.

And amidst all of this turmoil that we'd experienced in the past few hours, that realization was unsettling.

Because despite Mike's love for them, I'd kept my distance as best as I could without seeming cold.

I'd held back pieces of myself when it came to Bobby and Alex.

I mean, I liked them. I liked them a lot.

And I really loved how much they loved Mike. Because he deserved it.

But I wasn't sure that I did.

Because I'd had a family once, and I'd lost them.

So I would just keep my mask in place and be the calm voice of reason. It was my strong-suit.

"Bobby's going to be okay," I told Mike as he turned around to look at me. His eyes were wild and his expression unreadable.

"Why are you not upset about this?" he asked in a slightly critical tone.

His eyes penetrated mine and I felt for a moment as though he could read my every thought. I did my best to block his x-ray vision.

"Somebody has to be the calm one," I countered.

"Yeah, well you're always the calm one."

"Maybe that's because you're always pissed off!" I yelled.

My anger was coming. It was a slow boil with me and I could usually control it. But after a day like this, I wasn't sure if I could. And if Mike kept it up…

"Maybe you're just afraid to feel something..._anything_," he accused.

That just about did it. I stood there fuming, enraged about what he had suggested.

But the more we glared at each other, the more I knew that he was right. And that scared me, because that meant that _he _knew it, too and I was not going to do this right now.

I _couldn't_ do this right now.

"Yeah, well you know what? Fuck you, Mike," I retorted childishly as I pushed past him and continued toward the hotel.

"Carolyn, wait. I'm sorry," he called out after a minute.

"No, you're right," I shouted over my shoulder. I didn't slow down though. I didn't want to face him. What I needed now was deflection. Distraction. "I don't feel anything for anybody. I'm the ice queen. That's what they called me at the Bureau, so feel free. It fits."

I could hear his footsteps behind me, but I kept moving until I got to our hotel. I went inside and blew past the elevators and went straight for the stairwell.

Mike caught me on the landing in between the first two floors.

"I'm sorry," he said again. He held onto my arm with his hand, but I couldn't look at him. "I'm just…I'm still angry at Carver, and I'm mad as hell that Goren got shot, and…I'm just mad. It'd be nice if once in awhile you were mad with me instead of always using your hostage negotiator voice."

He was throwing up the white flag. His tone had calmed and he was truly sorry, I could tell. But he also wasn't going to let it pass.

And I didn't want to talk about it. He'd hit the damn nail on the head.

I _did_ keep my walls up around Bobby and Alex. I _was_ afraid to show emotion.

For everyone but Mike anyway.

I'd pursued Mike because I was too in love with him to live without him.

I'd tried that. Living without him. I'd tried really hard. But it didn't work.

So I'd come back from South America.

I'd tracked him down, and I'd convinced him that I loved him. I'd convinced him that he was worthy of being loved.

It wasn't the easiest task, but I was fine with that. I still had to remind him from time to time that he wasn't inconsequential. That he was important.

That to me he was everything.

And I was so busy building him up that I was able to ignore my own issues. It was easier that way. I could be what everyone else wanted and not worry about myself.

And Mike thought that I was damn near perfect, so why would I want to shatter that illusion?

"I don't want to fight with you. But help me understand," he pleaded. "Because if this doesn't fire you up, then I don't know what will."

Panic filled me at the notion that I was disappointing him. It did fire me up, but I was scared. I was scared of caring too much.

"I know you care about them both," he continued, and then he looked at me quizzically. "Don't you?"

How could I explain this to him without falling apart?

Because honestly, I might look tough, but I was a psychological crisis waiting to happen.

I'd never properly dealt with my feelings from fifteen years ago.

I'd shoved everything down and pushed ahead. I'd done exactly what I refused to let Mike do. I'd kept it all inside.

I was a fucking hypocrite.

Mike knew about my family.

He knew that I'd had two parents who'd stayed married and who didn't beat me. We weren't rich but we weren't broke.

I'd had a brother and a sister, both of whom had graduated college.

And he knew that they were all dead, killed in a car accident on the day before my twenty-seventh birthday.

What he didn't know was that I was supposed to have been with them.

He also didn't know that since then I had successfully avoided loving anyone until I'd run across him. _Until I'd fallen in love with him_. And I'd fought that tooth and nail.

Because losing my family had almost gotten the best of me. And I was pretty sure I couldn't handle another loss. So my remedy for that was to avoid love altogether.

But I'd never told him about that.

I'd worked hard to get him to share his bad memories with me, and while he was healing himself by talking and developing bonds with Bobby and Alex, I was battening down the hatches.

I was holding on to him with everything I had because he was all I would ever allow myself to have. He was my life preserver. My saving grace.

What would happen if he knew that I wasn't quite as well put-together as he thought?

"Of course I care about them," I said as I finally looked him in the eye. "We don't have time for this right now. We need to get you changed so that we can try to track down the shooter."

"What aren't you telling me?"

"Mike…"

"Let's go," he said as he guided me up the final section of stairs. We came out in the second floor hallway and went to our room.

He closed and locked the door behind us and then stared at me intently. He put his hands on my shoulders, but he didn't pull me close.

"Carolyn, I love you. But something's going on with you and you need to tell me. Right now."

I closed my eyes tightly and chastised myself.

This was why I never let anyone too close and never let myself form attachments.

_But never wasn't the right word anymore, huh Carolyn? _

Because after fifteen years of vacuous relationships and surface friendships, now I had Mike.

I'd denied myself for as long as I could and then I'd caved. I had to have him in my life.

If I ever lost him, I'd be devastated beyond repair.

And damn it, as much as I didn't want to admit it, as much as I'd fought it, I realized now that I had Bobby and Alex, too.

Bobby was so good for Mike that I could've loved him on that fact alone.

But after Mike and Alex had gone to Minnesota and I'd worked the case with Bobby, I really got a feel for what a great guy he is. A truly rare great guy.

And Alex…she was incredible.

The night Alex almost died had made me realize that maybe I cared a little more about her than I'd thought. A little more than I wanted to.

So then I'd tried to back off emotionally because that's just what I do.

And then she'd gone and saved Mike's life. For that, I owed her everything.

So despite my years of practice, my mask was crumbling.

Could I trust Mike to love me no matter what? Even if I wasn't as strong as he thought?

I guess I had to.

If he didn't, then it wasn't really love in the first place.

"I…I um…I don't know how to do this," I said finally. And then I just had to rush and get it all out before I chickened out once again. "This family thing. It's what we are, and I don't know how I got here, because I swore I would never…I wouldn't ever love anyone…and then I loved you and so I decided to risk it, because well, you're you and I needed you too much, and…"

I was getting off point and my words were running together, but I'd opened the gate, so it was all coming out now.

"Slow down, sweetheart," he said softly as he moved his hand into my hair. "I know it's been an upsetting day. We'll get through this."

"You don't understand. I was supposed to be with them. I should've been in the car. But I lied and made an excuse not to go, and then they were killed, and…why did I get to live? What makes me so special?"

It didn't matter that I was now talking about something that had happened fifteen years ago. Mike always understood me. I had yet to learn what I'd ever done in life to deserve him.

"Everything makes you special," he whispered as he wiped the tears from my face. I didn't even realize I'd been crying. "You can't question why it happened."

"I'm sorry. I know this isn't the time, but I can't stop thinking about it. I've done so well up until now, but today when I found out that it was Bobby instead of you…it didn't matter. I mean it _mattered_, but it didn't because…because it was still Bobby."

The tears were coming harder now, and I was facing one of my greatest fears. I was having a complete breakdown. And there was a witness.

"Hey, it's okay," Mike said He started to pull me to him, but he stopped when he looked down at himself. He quickly whipped off his t-shirt before wrapping his arms around me and pulling me against his chest.

"It's not okay," I argued quietly. I put my arms around his waist and held on as though my life depended on it. And really, it did. "It's not okay because I can't do this. I can't lose anyone else. I didn't realize how much I loved them until today."

He held me while I cried. I waited for him to tell me that I was silly for feeling the way that I did, but he didn't. He just held me.

And after awhile, my tears slowed down.

"Why didn't you ever tell me about that?" he murmured. "You know you can tell me everything."

"I didn't…I wasn't…" I couldn't get the words out.

"You've always let it be all about me. And so have I," he said astutely. "You take care of me and then you don't have to worry about you."

"Maybe. Yeah."

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart. It's not your job to always be the strong one. You can't keep it all inside."

"I know," I admitted as I pulled back from him.

"I _know_ you know," he said with a small smile.

"This is bad timing though, huh? I'm sorry. I'm okay."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. We'll talk more about this, I promise. But I'm okay for right now. It helped just to say it out loud."

I managed to smile back at him and then I shoved him in the direction of the bathroom.

"They're hard not to like, aren't they?" he called to me from the bathroom. I followed him and stood in the doorway while he got undressed.

"They won Ross over. I shouldn't be surprised that they cracked my defenses," I replied.

My phone started ringing as Mike climbed into the shower so I went back into the main room.

"Logan," I answered, still getting used to the sound of his name as my own, but loving it just the same.

"Everything went fine," Alex said.

"So he's okay?" I confirmed, ignoring the shaky quality of my voice. Damn, I hated to cry, but the idea that Bobby was going to be fine sent so much relief through me that I nearly started round two.

"Yeah, they're putting him into a room now," she told me. "What's going on?"

"Nothing," I said quickly. "Carver gave us a list of a dozen names of Cabbage's known associates. He swears he doesn't know the original victim, but we've got the name and we're going to check that out, too."

"Where are you guys now?"

"At the hotel. Mike is…"

I didn't finish my sentence because I didn't want to say out loud that Mike was in the shower washing off Bobby's blood. Hell, I didn't even want to think it, much less say it.

"Is he okay?" she asked.

"He's fine."

"Carolyn," she said tightly. She knew I was holding back. And I knew that she wanted more from me.

She was offering me friendship and loyalty and trust. It was a gift coming from Alex. From her and Bobby both and I'd be a fool not to accept.

All I had to do was offer it in return. And I'd already admitted to myself that I loved them, so now I just had to let myself act like it.

I breathed out a sigh and told her what was going on. Of course, I kept my words focused on Mike. Hey, I wasn't going to change overnight.

"He's barely holding it together. He had a stranglehold on Carver when I caught up to him."

"I'd like to strangle Carver myself," she replied. I bit back a chuckle at how closely her thoughts mirrored my own. "Bring him back here," she added.

"To the hospital?"

"Yeah. He needs to see that Bobby's okay so that he can refocus."

Going to the hospital _would_ be good for Mike. And it would be good for me, too.

"Okay. Yeah, I'll do that. We'll be there as soon as we can."

TBC...


	13. Chapter 13

**Bobby POV**

* * *

I got situated in a room down the hall.

It was still in the ER but it wasn't classified as a trauma room, so that was an improvement. And I only had to stay one night, so it could've been worse.

Much, _much_ worse.

The nurse finally left me alone, so I was just waiting for Alex. I wasn't in a private room. There were three beds in the large area, but each one had a curtain that could be pulled for the illusion of privacy, and for now the other beds were empty.

"Mike and Carolyn are on their way over here," Alex told me, clipping her phone onto her belt as she came into the room.

I watched her as she paused and looked down the row of beds and then she quickly whipped the curtain closed. That sound would've caused her to flinch as recently as last summer, so I was glad to see that now it didn't seem to phase her at all.

"There's no one else in the room," I told her with a smile.

"Maybe I don't want anyone to see us through the window," she replied. "Maybe I need to make sure that you don't have any other injuries that may require my attention."

I knew that she was trying hard to keep the mood light. Neither one of us wanted to think too seriously about the alternate outcomes of the day. Not right now anyway.

And yet it was hard to ignore the facts.

_I could've died_.

She walked around to the left side of the bed and sat down on the edge of the mattress.

Once she was close enough, I immediately grabbed her hand. I needed that link to her, that physical connection.

Because at one point this afternoon, I had been afraid that I would never have it again.

When she'd called my phone and Mike didn't want to answer…all I could think of was how desperately I wanted him to answer the phone because I wanted to hear her voice, just in case I didn't make it.

But apparently by the time he'd answered, I was out cold.

I knew that Mike had fashioned a tourniquet to control the bleeding. And I knew that he'd held pressure on the entrance wound. That part had hurt worse than just about any pain I could remember.

But after that, after he and I argued about answering the phone, it was all a blank.

I had no memory of the ambulance ride, or of getting to the hospital. I only remembered waking up to the frightening feeling of being so cold…so cold that for a brief second I wondered if I truly was awake.

As opposed to maybe being dead, I mean.

But Alex had been there, and I'd fought through the fog and the cold so that I could focus on her.

Later, when the nurse was moving me to this room, she'd told me that Mike had insisted on giving me his blood. _Two pints of it_.

I couldn't quite grasp the magnitude of that gesture in my head. Not just yet, anyway. My emotions were too close to the surface to examine the symbolism.

I needed to step back and concentrate on the case.

Obviously, I wouldn't be wandering around Chicago in search of Derek's killer, but I could offer up what I considered to be my best asset.

My brain.

"Good," I told her in reference to Mike and Carolyn. "We need to go over what we know and decide what comes next."

"Yes," she said hesitantly, as though the case hadn't been foremost in her mind.

"And?" I asked encouragingly.

And then I noticed now how tired she looked. I was reminded yet again of all that she'd been through today.

It also struck me how damn tough she was because when she took a bullet in the leg, she'd been up and around in no time. And now I knew first hand how much it hurt to get shot.

"And you might want to talk with Mike a little bit," she said added.

_Why just Mike_?

Weren't we all going to solve this thing?

"Okay," I agreed blindly.

I didn't know where she was going with this, but if she wanted me to talk to Mike, then I would talk to Mike.

"He blames himself, Bobby," she clarified.

"For what?" I asked in confusion.

Okay, so maybe the morphine hadn't completely worn off. Maybe right now my brain wasn't my best asset.

Although considering the shape of the rest of me…yeah, it probably still was.

"For you getting shot," she said gently as she ran her hand over my cheek. "He feels responsible."

"Why would he feel like that?"

"Welcome to my world," she said on a chuckle. "Maybe he's been hanging around you too much."

I wasn't sure what to say to that, but it didn't matter. Alex didn't wait for my reply, but instead she leaned over and kissed me softly.

Once, and then again, and again.

"I was so scared," she admitted between kisses. "I have never been so scared in my life. What would I do without you?"

She sat back to look at me and her eyes were filled with tears again. It nearly broke my heart.

Why did I always have to cause her pain?

I reached up and tucked her hair behind her ear, and then pulled her closer for another kiss. Words were inadequate at the moment. Right now was about feelings.

I kept my hand on the back of her head and deepened the kiss. She shifted closer and made a contented humming sound.

It was so perfect, so exactly what I needed, that I was suddenly desperately afraid that I would wake up and find that it had all been a dream.

And I don't mean just today. I mean all of it.

Any minute, I was going to wake up alone in my bed in my old apartment and then I'd have to get ready to go to work at MCS. With my partner, Eames.

And the more I thought about it being too good to be true, the more I was afraid that it was.

I forced myself to pull away.

"I am awake, right?" I asked her. She tilted her head and smiled at me.

"Does it feel like a dream?"

"I can't get used to the idea that you're here with me," I said. She broke into a full grin.

"You think that the past six months are a dream? Bobby," she whispered with a shake of her head. "What am I going to do with you?"

"I have a few ideas," I replied suggestively as I ran my hand down the side of her cheek and then to the collar of her shirt. But she was still wearing a sweatshirt and I couldn't get to what I wanted, so I slid my fingers down the front of her and then grabbed at the hem of the shirt.

I mean, hey – if it was a dream then I had nothing to lose. And if it was real, well, then I still didn't have anything to lose.

"You got another dose of morphine, didn't you?" she asked me.

_Oh_. I guess I'd forgotten about that.

I nearly forgot about it again when Alex scooted closer to me and let me shift my hand under the bottom edge of her sweatshirt. I moved it around to settle on the small of her back and I reveled in the skin-on-skin contact.

She leaned over to kiss along my neck and I took the opportunity to slide my hand into the back of her jeans.

"Bobby?" she whispered, her mouth hovering against my ear.

_What had she asked me_? Oh. Morphine.

"Yeah, the nurse insisted. I think she might be almost as tough as you are," I admitted as my eyes started to close.

So much for using my brain. These damn drugs had me completely fuzzy.

And that was just wrong considering that I had Alex's top half pressed up against my chest, her breath in my ear, and my hand was down her pants.

"Get some rest," she murmured against my cheek and then she kissed me again.

It was the most heavenly feeling and if I was dreaming, then I was happy to stay in my dream world forever.

"Goren."

Forever just got a lot shorter.

"Bobby."

It wasn't Alex.

_Please don't let me be in my apartment_.

Please don't let this have all been a dream.

I shifted in the bed and pain shot through my right arm. Okay, shit. I did get shot, so maybe that meant everything else was real, too.

"Come on, Mr. Goren."

I opened my eyes and found the doctor from earlier standing next to Logan. They were both watching me intently.

"I'm sorry to have to wake you up, but you've been out for nearly two hours. I need to do another neuro-check."

"Alex?" I asked in a raspy post-drug-induced-sleep voice.

"She went with Carolyn to get some coffee. They'll be back," Logan told me. I breathed out a sigh of relief and silently willed for my brain to clear. It was slow going.

I carefully sat up in the bed and complied with Dr. Carter's series of tests, the first of which was to see if I remembered his name.

"Is that the hardest question you've got, Doc?" Logan asked him with a grin. "Because he's a damn genius so you can probably skip the remedial portion."

"A genius, huh?" the doctor asked with a grin as he looked in my eyes with a pen light. "I suppose I can make this a little more challenging."

I passed with flying colors and I was grateful at how quickly my system was shedding the residual cloud from the drug.

"I really don't want any more of that morphine," I told him when he finished. "Can you put that on the chart so that the nurses don't try to force it on me?"

"I wrote down here that you didn't want it," he told me with a shake of his head. "But you must have looked like you were in pain, and the nurses hate to see that."

"Ibuprofen," I said firmly. "We're still working on a case."

"Got it," he replied as he jotted another note on my chart. Then he waved a hand in Logan's direction. "You know your friend here saved your life."

I looked at Mike, who was now staring intently at the floor.

"I didn't really do anything," he said quietly.

"You gave me blood," I stated, vaguely remembering something that Alex had told me about Mike blaming himself.

"It wasn't just the blood," Dr. Carter said as he headed for the door. "If he hadn't stopped the bleeding as fast as he did, the outcome could've been vastly different. You could've easily bled out by the time the ambulance arrived."

The doctor left after tossing out that pivotal statement.

Mike and I were alone in the room in complete silence.

"Mike," I began.

Before I could even say _thank you_, he interrupted.

"You don't have to say anything," he told me, still looking at the floor.

_Say something astute, _I told myself.

How would Alex handle this?

"Oh, okay," I replied. "Because I'm sure you didn't say anything to Alex when she saved your ass last month."

His eyes flew up to mine, and it struck me how well I knew him.

Or rather, how well he knew me.

He'd helped me through so many situations, so many tight spots that I'd managed to get myself into.

Like when I was suspended, or when Alex and I had a drug runners after us, or when I was framed for murder…my life was like a suspense novel and he was always coming to my assistance.

_Or to my rescue, in this case_.

"That was different," he insisted, still deflecting credit. But at least now he was looking at me.

"Only in the technique used," I stated. "Same end result."

"Yeah, but…" he dropped off his argument and paced at the foot of the bed. "It wasn't…that wasn't the _same_. It wasn't her fault that I fell through the ice."

He _did_ blame himself. Was I really this bad?

"But it's your fault that I got shot."

"Well…yeah."

"How, exactly?"

"You…um…I heard the um…shots and…I got down. I dropped to the ground, but you…"

"I was already shot," I told him.

I did remember that. The first round had hit me. Derek was still standing when I went down.

"There was nothing that you could've done," I told him, taking care to enunciate each word. I wanted to make sure that he was really listening.

"But…"

"Mike. There was nothing that you could've done," I said again. "You saved my life. At one time that might not have seemed like such a big deal to me, but now…"

I paused as I watched Alex and Carolyn approach the room.

They were talking and they stopped outside the door, but I could still see them through the window.

I pulled my eyes away from Alex and looked back at Mike.

"Now I've got a lot to live for."

TBC...


	14. Chapter 14

**Carver POV**

* * *

That déclassé Mike Logan had left my office in complete and utter disarray.

He had some nerve to come to my place of business and threaten me. To make a mess of my workplace.

It was a good thing for him that his equally uncouth partner had come for him.

_Wife_, I reminded myself. Alexandra had told me that they were married.

Well, whatever. They were a match made in hell that was for sure.

And if he had stayed in my office for another minute, I was going to call the police.

I should've done it anyway.

In fact, I _was_ going to call them.

Not to file a complaint against Logan. If I did that, then I would have to explain why he had attacked me and that was a discussion that I would rather not have.

But I did need to call so that I could get the information on how to go about claiming my brother's body.

I was surprised that I hadn't been notified yet, but maybe it was a busy day for the Chicago PD.

Regardless, I would need to officially ID him since I had no doubt that he carried no identification.

And then I'd have to have him transported to a funeral home, where I would have to schedule a service and make burial arrangements.

It was a logistical nightmare and really not what I needed right now.

I stopped picking up the scattered papers from the floor and leaned against my desk for a moment. I could feel a headache coming on.

The past twenty-four hours had been straight out of a politicians' guide of what _not_ to do.

I'd hired investigators to attempt a cover-up.

I'd let them into my place of business.

I'd attempted to court one of them, and was subsequently humiliated by her vehement rejection in a public forum.

And now my drug-addict brother was dead.

That alone might not have gotten much coverage, but since a New York investigator was shot in the same incident, it was likely going to be the headline story on the ten o'clock news.

And I felt bad about Derek. I did. But he'd chosen that life. I'd gotten him out of it once, and he went back to it. I couldn't watch him twenty-four seven and I couldn't make him stay clean if he didn't want to.

And I also felt somewhat bad about Detective Goren. But as long as I'd known him, he couldn't stay out of trouble. He always managed to stick his nose where it didn't belong.

Had he been the cause of the shooting?

As much as I wanted that scenario to work in my head, I couldn't picture it.

Logan had mentioned that they were unarmed. _Mentioned it while he had me pinned up against the wall_.

That thought infuriated me again.

And okay, so maybe I should've told them about Cabbage and his gang.

But what would that have changed?

They still would've been on the streets looking for him. They still would've ended up in the cross-hairs.

And now Logan had the nerve to tell me that I was going to continue to pay them while they searched for the shooter?

It would be a cold day in hell before I went to Deakins again. He'd sent these miscreants back into my life.

Despite my distaste for the man, I was slightly curious as to how Detective Goren was faring, so I picked up my phone from the floor and pressed a button.

"Sherrie, I need you to find out which hospital has a patient by the name of Robert Goren," I said when my secretary answered.

"Yes sir," she replied quickly.

Was he at death's door?

Logan had certainly been angry enough. _And bloody enough_.

It was a distinct possibility.

I checked my watch. Surely the police would've come to me by now. I wasn't hard to find.

Had Logan not given them Derek's name?

I might be able to use this to my advantage.

And maybe acknowledging the fact that I had an addict brother wouldn't be such a lurid thing.

The fact that he had been killed changed the stigma. It might even score me some sympathy voters.

I could take a hard line against drug-related crime. _An out-of-towner had been caught in the cross-fire_. It had potential.

And if I controlled the situation, then I could keep the focus on that rather than on the fact that Derek had been a witness and possible suspect in a murder.

I pushed the button again.

"And get me the Chicago Police Department," I instructed.

I didn't give a damn who the shooter was.

In fact, I'd like to give him a medal. He may have single-handedly solved most of my problems, and as for the detectives, well…I had a plan to derail them.

The women were inconsequential.

Logan's wife was doomed to spend her days chasing after her husband. She would be forever cleaning up his messes since he maintained the attitude of an inadequately housebroken mutt.

And Alexandra…she was such a disappointment. I'd had high hopes. I'd truly thought that we could be a power couple amongst the political elite. And instead she'd chosen to mingle beneath her.

As for the men, they would be easy to handle as well.

Goren was down for the count. I'd have to find out his condition, but it was possible that Alexandra was facing becoming a widow yet again. Not that it mattered. She was undeniably tainted now, and she'd made her opinion of me clear.

And I certainly didn't wish for him to die. I wasn't that inconsiderate. But he was in the hospital and so he would likely at least be laid up for as long as it took for the rest of this mess to blow over.

That left me with Logan. I knew how to sidetrack him, and I was going to take great pleasure in doing so.

I was going to get payback, high-class style.

Because if I had the chance to cover this up and come out on top, then I had to go for it.

A minute later, Sherrie buzzed my phone and let me know that the Chicago PD desk sergeant was on the line.

**

* * *

**

Ross POV

I sat at my desk on Sunday afternoon and read through the files of the two new detectives who were going to be coming to MCS.

And I had to admit it. Their files were pretty much irrelevant because I had a case of the ass about them.

I didn't want new detectives.

I wanted the Gorens back.

I chuckled at myself because the thought, even in my own brain, was absurd.

How much time had I spent agonizing over those two? Well, him especially, but both of them because they had always been a package deal even back in the beginning.

I knew that I owed them a lot.

Set aside the professional aspect for a moment. I still owed them for helping Liz when she was being set up for murder. They'd kept our secret about our marriage. And they'd stood up for me against Akers.

All of those things were above and beyond their exemplary solve-rate and top-notch detective work.

And all of those things had happened despite the fact that I treated the original Goren like crap on a regular basis.

So hell yes, I owed them.

I'd met earlier with the commissioner to discuss the empty Chief of D's position.

He wanted my opinion.

He _valued_ my opinion.

I'd had to stifle a laugh at that because prior to the female Goren earning a medal and the other Goren being railroaded by the former chief, the commissioner probably didn't even know my name.

And now he wanted my vote for the new chief. I told him that I didn't give a damn who it was as long as he exceeded his predecessor in the morals department.

Overall, the meeting had gone well, and I'd been given the personnel files for the Gorens' replacements.

I'd debated on insisting that a hold be placed on the positions, at least for a short period of time, just so that if they wanted to come back…but I'd stopped myself.

No sense in going through the exercise.

They weren't coming back.

I'd been in my office for nearly an hour when the phone on my desk started ringing.

"Danny, where have you been?"

It was Liz.

"I've been here," I said as I reached down for my cell phone.

Damn, I'd turned it to silent when I met with the commissioner earlier and forgotten to change it back. I had four missed calls from her.

"What's going on?" I asked as I switched the ringer back to vibrate.

"I got a call from Alex a couple of hours ago."

Her voice was laced with concern and I was instantly on alert.

"What's wrong?"

"Bobby got shot."

"What?" I asked as I got up from my desk. "Is he okay? Which hospital?"

"It sounds like he's going to be fine," she assured me.

"Liz, which hospital?" I asked again as I grabbed my coat. But her next words halted my movements.

"They're not in town. They're in Chicago on a case."

"Already? They just left the department two days ago."

"Did you think they'd have trouble finding work?" she asked smartly. That was my Liz. Never one to mix words.

"No. No, of course not. Is she okay?"

"Alex? You know her. She was a little rattled, but she's keeping it together. The Logans are with them."

_Of course_, I thought with a smile.

"Okay. So he's alright? Is there something we can do? What happened?"

"I didn't get all of the details."

"Do you know what the case is?"

"I don't know, Danny. I didn't ask about that. Why?"

"I've got a friend with the Chicago PD. Maybe I'll give him a call."

"Call Alex first," she told me. "Get the story from her."

"I will. Thanks, Liz."

"So are you almost done? I'm about ready to get out of here."

"I'm done. I'll call Alex and then meet you at home, okay?"

"How do your new detectives look on paper?"

"You probably already know the answer to that," I replied with a smile.

She'd seen the Gorens for what they were long before I had.

"Not nearly as good as Bobby and Alex," she said smugly.

I hung up with my wife and as I punched in the number for Alex's cell, I was already running through possibilities in my mind.

I could get a late flight out tonight and be in Chicago by midnight.

I could meet with my buddy, Tom Coulter. He was a captain with CPD's 11th district. I had no idea where the shooting had taken place, but surely he could pull some strings and let me assist on the search.

He owed me. He'd let me in on it.

But then I wouldn't be in my office tomorrow when my new detectives showed up…

"Goren," Alex answered. She didn't sound bad. I was hopeful.

"It's me, Cap…um…hell, I don't know what you want to call me," I admitted. "Ross…Danny…either one is fine."

"Liz called you," she replied knowingly.

"She did. How's Goren?"

"He's doing much better. He has to stay here overnight, but they got the bullet out and there doesn't seem to be any permanent damage."

I let out a breath that I hadn't realized I'd been holding.

And then I realized that she wasn't nearly as happy as she should be with that kind of prognosis. She sounded distracted. Something else was going on.

"What about you? Are you okay?"

"I'm…um…I'm fine. Hang on."

I was sure she'd set the phone down or at least had it down at her side, but I could still hear.

_**"Sir, you're going to have to come with us."**_

_**"What for?"**_

That was Alex, and I knew that tone of voice. She was pissed off.

_**"He just needs to come with us for a few minutes."**_

_**"Then you don't need the handcuffs!"**_

That was Carolyn. I didn't know her as well, but I'd been on the receiving end of that tone of voice a time or two.

_**"Is he under arrest?"**_

_**"What for?"**_

"Captain," Alex said, coming back on the line. "I'm sorry. I need to go."

"What's going on?"

"It's Mike. He's being questioned by the Chicago PD. They want to take him in for withholding evidence."

"What district?" I asked her, and now I did put on my jacket. I closed up my office while she spoke with the cops.

"The eleventh."

The same as where Coulter worked. Hopefully that was a good sign.

"Is he under arrest?"

"Looks that way. This is bullshit, Captain."

"I've got a friend there. I'll make a call. Tell Logan to keep his mouth shut and I'll be out there as soon as I can."

TBC...


	15. Chapter 15

**Alex POV**

* * *

This day was just full of surprises.

Forget about everything that had happened up to this point.

Forget the offer that I'd gotten in the house on Abel Street. My years in Vice hadn't even prepared me for such a colorfully descriptive proposition. Carolyn and I had been laughing about it when I'd made the call to Bobby's phone.

Forget the panic and the flashbacks I'd experienced while racing to the hospital.

Forget my overwhelming and misplaced anger at Mike for not keeping Bobby safe. My apologies to him had not been nearly enough, and surely I was partly to blame for his feelings of guilt.

Forget the paralyzing fear when Bobby had finally opened his eyes, only to start shaking uncontrollably.

Forget the onslaught of gratitude and relief when I learned that Bobby was going to be okay. No permanent damage. No long-term recovery. But seriously, one-overnight-stay kind of okay.

Forget all of that.

Because now there was more.

Now I had Logan getting arrested.

Now I had Ross getting on a plane for Chicago. _To help us_.

I was somewhat baffled.

I watched as the cops slapped the cuffs on Mike's wrists. He was suitably irritated, but he kept his mouth shut.

Carolyn was hopping mad. _Another surprise_. She was normally so composed.

"This is crazy!" she yelled at one of the cops, and despite the fact that he was at least a foot taller than her and probably more than a hundred pounds heavier, she stood right in front of him and poked at his chest with her finger. "He was shot at today. Do you not understand that? Don't they teach you anything about police work in Chicago?"

"Ma'am, you need to step back," the officer told her, his patience clearly wearing thin.

"I'm not stepping anywhere," she continued. "This is harassment. Withholding evidence? That's a crap charge and you know it. And what evidence? He told you everything he knows!"

The cop had now taken a step backwards as Carolyn encroached even further into his personal space. He looked at me for help.

"You need to settle your friend down," he said to me.

"Why?" I asked him. "I think she's doing just fine. And she has a point."

"I'm going to have to take her in, too," he warned.

"For what?" she asked him incredulously.

"Hey, we need to keep it down in here. You guys are disturbing my other patients."

It was my new favorite doctor, Dr. Carter.

He came into the room and when he caught sight of Mike in handcuffs, he looked at the officers with a raised eyebrow.

"Reggie, what are you doing? These guys haven't done anything wrong."

"I've gotta take him in, Doc. We asked him who the DOA was and he said he didn't know. Then he made the notification himself," he told Dr. Carter. Then he leaned close to him and said quietly, "_To a district attorney_."

And then the light came on. It was all crystal clear.

It was fucking Carver.

This was his way of paying Mike back. Of paying us all back. He was in serious CYA mode and this was step one of his full-blown cover-up.

I caught Mike's eye from across the room, and he gave me a nod.

Then I looked over at Bobby and I could tell he was agitated.

This was going from bad to worse.

Keeping Bobby calm and rested while we searched for a shooter was one thing and would've been difficult enough in its own right, but now it seemed we were going to be in the middle of a battle.

I crossed the room and stood next to Mike for a moment. The cop who was holding him as though his very life depended on it threw a glare in my direction, but I reached up and spoke in Mike's ear.

"Ross has a friend in the department. He said for you to sit tight and keep quiet, okay? We'll get this sorted out."

I stepped back from him and patted him on the arm before I continued on around to stand next to Bobby.

"I'm coming with you," Carolyn said defiantly to the cops.

"Stay here," Mike told her. She whipped her head around to look at him, not having expected the fight to come from him.

"Be careful what you wish for, Mike. You wanted fired up. I'm fired up," she told him. "I can't put it back in the box just because it's inconvenient."

I didn't know what she meant by that, but clearly there was something going on between them that I wasn't privy to.

"Then stay here and help Alex," he told her calmly.

It was oddly paradoxical. Carolyn was hot and bothered and Mike was unruffled.

He held her gaze for a long minute, and I had to wonder if this was how people felt around me and Bobby. Words were passing between them that no one else heard.

"Mike…" she began, and that single syllable spoke volumes. He'd won the dispute between them with barely a word. _And he said I was good._ He obviously didn't give himself enough credit.

"A few hours in a holding cell isn't going to kill me," he insisted casually.

"We're not going to just throw you in a holding cell," the cop said. He was the one who Dr. Carter had called Reggie. He actually looked like he felt bad for what they were about to do.

"Well, I'm not going to be talking, so I don't know what else you're going to do with me," Mike told him with a smile.

"This is a huge waste of time," Bobby said. "We're all on the same side here. We want to find the shooter, too."

"And we don't need big shots from New York coming out here to do our job for us," the other cop fired back. "He broke the law. He provided us with false information. He's going downtown."

I heard Dr. Carter sigh heavily and then he shooed them all out of the room.

"Then go. Get out of my ER. But I think it's a damn shame that you're caving to political pressure like that," he continued as he followed the cops and Mike out into the hall.

He pulled the door closed behind him, and so then it was just the three of us.

"Now what?" I asked aloud. "Nobody gets arrested for withholding evidence, especially not like this. Carver's declared war. He pressured the cops to make an arrest."

"We need to let Mike wait for Ross," Bobby said. "Do you know when he's coming?"

As if on cue, my phone buzzed to indicate I'd received a text.

_**Plane lands at 10:35 at O'Hare. I'll get a cab to the 11**__**th**__** district and call you when I know something**_.

"Okay," Carolyn said softly. She was taking deep breaths and I knew she was trying hard to get her temper under control. "Okay, so we let Ross handle Mike."

"That means me and you get to track down Cabbage's gang," I told her.

"I do not like the sound of that," Bobby argued. "It's too dangerous. You guys don't even have your weapons."

"We didn't have them earlier today. What's the difference?" I countered.

"If it were you and Mike, you two would go without question," Carolyn challenged.

I liked this new outspoken and fiery Carolyn. And I thought she'd already come out of her shell with us, but clearly I was wrong. There was more to her that I still needed to learn.

I grabbed onto Bobby's hand and caught his gaze.

"She's right. And it's less dangerous now than it was before because nobody's gunning for Derek anymore. And we weren't seen with him the first time."

I didn't need him to agree. It wasn't like either of us had to have the other's permission to do our jobs. But I wanted him to understand and be behind us on this.

He gripped my hand tighter and slowly let out a sigh.

I knew he hated the idea, but I also knew that he agreed that it was the best course of action.

"Leave me the laptop and the file. I'll look through what little bit of information we have and see if I can connect any dots," he said at last.

"Okay," Carolyn replied. She picked up her bag from where she'd left it on the floor against the near wall and then, after removing the tray of food, she placed it on the table that went across his bed. "Everything is in here."

"And please be careful," he said as he made eye contact with me again. I saw Carolyn in my peripheral vision and noticed that she was easing her way out of the room ostensibly to give us a moment alone.

"You, too," Bobby added. He must have seen her, too. She stopped her progress and came back to stand next to me. "Both of you need to be very careful."

I gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, but then I went back and gave him another, longer kiss on the lips.

I didn't want to leave him stuck in the hospital alone, and I was sure that he hated being here even worse. Neither one of us were happy when we couldn't have the other one's back.

Although working with Mike and Carolyn on a permanent basis meant that we had to trust that they had our backs as well. It wasn't a stretch. We'd been looking out for each other unofficially for months.

I stepped back from the bed and started towards the door, but then Carolyn surprised us both by leaning down to kiss him on the cheek, too.

"Get better, okay? We'll be back as soon as we can," she told him.

I watched from the foot of the bed as she unclipped her cell phone from her belt and set it on the table next to her bag. I could only guess that Mike still had Bobby's phone and I wasn't sure that we'd want it back.

"We'll keep in touch. And you call if you need anything," she said.

He immediately started organizing his work space. He kept the phone within easy reach and then pulled out the laptop and file. He set the bag aside and turned on the computer. I could tell his mind was already off and running.

I gave him a nod and a small smile and then as soon as Carolyn turned to leave in front of me, I looked back at him and mouthed _I love you_.

I wasn't ever going to leave him again without saying those words.

An hour later, Carolyn and I approached the flophouse on Abel Street.

"Everything okay with you and Mike?" I asked her as we went up the dilapidated sidewalk.

"What do you mean?"

"Fired up...putting it back in the box..."

"Oh, that. Yeah, we're fine," she told me. And then, as though she came to a conclusion by herself, she added, "We sort of had a...disagreement earlier. Not really a disagreement, but just...it's a long story. But I'll tell you, okay? Just not right now. And we really are fine."

"Okay," I agreed, glad that she had elaborated. "I'm all ears when you're ready to talk."

We stood on the front porch and looked up at the rundown building. There was a condemned sticker on the only window that wasn't broken.

I pushed on the door, and the two of us went inside.

The feel of the place was completely different in the dark, and this time it was filled to capacity. We weren't worried about Cabbage's gang hanging out in here. We were just hoping for a little information.

"If the cops know who Derek was, then why aren't they here?" I muttered as we picked our way over various strung-out bodies.

"You can bet your ass that Carver didn't mention anything about a murder. He's going to play this to his advantage. He's an opportunistic stuck-up dickhead, but he's not stupid."

We got to the center of the room and looked around.

"How do you want to do this?" she asked me. "Gentle persuasion or hard-ass?"

"I've always been partial to the hard-ass approach myself," I replied with a grin. "And maybe a little bit of misdirection."

I reached in my jacket pocket and pulled out my badge.

"You still have that?"

"You think I was going to give it back after seventeen years? I earned it. I'm keeping it."

We turned on our flashlights and I held my badge up in the air.

"Okay, listen up!" Carolyn shouted. Groans and scrambling was heard throughout the house. "We're looking for anyone who might have information about Derek Carver. The Butcher. If you talk to us, you get a free pass. If you don't, then your ass just might go to jail. Got it?"

"He ain't here tonight, lady," a man yelled out.

"I know that. You know why he ain't here? Cause he's dead."

"We ain't seen him since Yoyo got popped."

Carolyn and I looked at each other, and then I approached the man who'd made the statement and pulled him to his feet.

"Yoyo," I stated as he struggled to focus on my eyes.

He was high as a kite. We'd have to see if something he said made sense or if he was just spouting off delusions.

"The Butcher and Yoyo was friends," he told us. "Until Yoyo cock blocked him with that Connecticut playa."

"The guy in the black car?" I asked. Maybe this guy wasn't as stoned as I'd first thought. I didn't know the name Yoyo, but I had to guess that he was our original victim.

"Yoyo," Carolyn said. "Is that Roger Smith?"

She was on the same page as me. Roger Smith was the name Carver had given up today, the first victim.

"I don't know that name. Just Yoyo. Ya know, 'cause he go back and forth."

"Yeah, we get it," I replied with a nod.

"Why do you think the Butcher hasn't been back?" Carolyn asked him.

"I think he killed Yoyo. Either him or Cabbage. I know they was out there together when it happened."

I glanced at Carolyn again and she was nodding.

"So Yoyo knew the guy in the black car?"

"He used to go with him all the time, and he'd come back with a pile of shit. He wouldn't let the Butcher go."

"Have you seen the guy in the car?"

"Nah, man."

"Was Yoyo a dealer? Did he sell what he brought back?"

"That bitch never sold no shit 'cept himself," the guy said in annoyance.

Then he dropped out cold on the floor.

"Uh…okay. I guess that's all we're getting from him," Carolyn muttered. "What do you think?"

"I think maybe Derek did kill Yoyo. He wanted to take over servicing the sugar daddy."

"We need to find this rich guy. You think he's really from Connecticut?" she asked as we picked our way out of the house.

I heard her chuckle a little, and I was glad that her temper had cooled somewhat. I mean, I liked that she had it. It made her more human. I also liked that she'd promised to share things with me. I didn't need to be involved in every aspect of her personal life, but I did want her to know that she could confide in me. She'd helped me out by being a sounding board, and I didn't mind returning the favor. Because it wasn't really a favor, it was just friendship.

But right now we all needed clear heads so that we could wrap this thing up.

"No, but I'm wondering how long before he comes back. It's been twenty-four hours since he left with Derek. How long do you think he can wait before coming back to get his rocks off again?"

"Let's go back on the street and see if we can find our friend Carrie. We can see if she's seen the black car today, and ask her what she knows about Yoyo."

TBC...


	16. Chapter 16

**Logan POV**

* * *

I've spent a night or two on the wrong side of a jail cell.

And it didn't take but a minute for me to see that Chicago jail wasn't any different than jail in any other big city.

It smelled of b.o., piss, and stale alcohol.

There were four guys in the cell, three of whom were bigger than me.

And everybody was innocent.

"You sure you don't want to talk?" the cop named Reggie asked me for the sixth time. "I can put you in an interrogation room."

"I'm fine," I told him again. I didn't want to get tag-teamed by Crockett and Tubbs. I just wanted to be left alone so that I could think.

In a miraculous turn of events, I hadn't been finger-printed. Basically, I was just in a holding pattern, and I had a feeling that I would have to thank Ross for that.

It was possible that his friend had more pull around here than Carver, but that remained to be seen. I guess Ross needed to be here first hand to call in whatever favor was owed.

Reggie's partner, the cop who seemed to truly think that he was some kind of Hollywood badass, stuck his head around the corner and called out, "Be careful. They don't much care for cops in jail."

_Fucking great_. CPD knew I used to be a cop, and now so did my cellies.

Score another one for Carver.

I should've strangled him when I had the chance.

I sat down along the far wall and kept my eyes forward. I didn't need to look at the others to know that they were all staring at me.

"You a cop, man?"

"No."

"Why'd he say that then?"

"Cause he's an asshole."

I heard some chuckling, but thankfully they all shut up for a minute.

And then the biggest one got up and walked over to stand in front of me.

"That ain't no Chicago accent. You from Brooklyn?"

I looked at him and shrugged and then looked away again.

Or at least, I shifted my eyes away from him. I had every sense focused on him because it was only a matter of time before he started some shit.

"My cousin got popped by some white cop in Brooklyn. How do I know that wasn't you?"

"I don't know," I replied casually.

And then, since I knew it was going to happen, I decided to just get it over with. I hated to wait around for anything.

So I gave him my best fuck-you stare, and said, "Maybe your cousin deserved it."

The punch came from the right, and I was ready for it. I blocked it as I got to my feet and then I followed it up with a left hook to his jaw.

He barely flinched.

I watched in awe for a split second as I realized that my plan had centered on this guy going down from my first punch.

_So much for that idea_.

I will say this for myself. I landed two more good blows before my arms were grabbed from behind and I was turned into a punching bag.

After a few minutes, I managed to use my captor for leverage and I caught one guy with a good kick to the ribs.

From there, it devolved into an all-out brawl.

I was just about out for the count when I heard a banging sound on the bars.

"Break it up! Come on, let him go!"

I wasn't sure, because I couldn't see from my position on the floor beneath two burly criminals, but I thought maybe that was Reggie.

"Shit, what the hell is going on in here?"

That was a voice I didn't recognize, but there was some authority in the tone. It was a boss of some sort.

"Sorry, Captain, I don't know what's going on."

The sound of the cell door opening finally caused the two thugs on top of me to move away. Although it didn't much help my vision since once eye was pretty much swollen shut.

I let out a groan and managed to get to my feet before spitting a mouthful of blood onto the floor.

I leveled my one good eye onto the two cops who now stood at the door.

"I appreciate the hospitality, guys. Is this how you treat all of your guests?"

"Is this the guy from New York?" the cop who I now knew to be the captain asked Reggie.

"Yeah, shit I'm sorry, sir. I think Cal might have told the others that he was a cop."

"You think right," I told him.

I wiped my mouth off with my sleeve and it came away bloody.

_I'd seen too much damn blood today_. But it was somehow a lot easier to take when it was my own.

"Get him out of there," the captain said. "Put him in my office. And put Cal in a conference room and tell him not to move his ass until I get there, you got me?"

"Yes sir."

The captain turned and left, so then Reggie held out his hand in a gesture for me to leave the cell.

I did. _Gladly_.

He slammed the cell door closed behind me and then led the way out into the hall.

I stopped in the doorway and looked back at the guys who'd jumped me.

"Have fun, ladies," I told them as I flipped them off.

"Hey, fuck you man! Get your punk ass back in here!"

"Some other time maybe," I replied as I turned away. I could still hear their taunts as I walked down the hall, but I dismissed them.

I was curious about my knight in shining armor. Was this captain just an honest cop who didn't like violence in his holding cell?

No, it was more than that. He was putting me in his office. It was looking more and more like the captain was Ross' friend.

"What'd you do to get them riled up like that?" Reggie asked me as he walked with me to the captain's office.

"I have a way with people," I said with a shrug. "What's your buddy's story? Cal?"

"He…um…he's kind of…"

"Brass ass-kisser?" I supplied. Reggie bit back a smile.

"Something like that."

"So Carver mentioned to you guys that I used to be a cop, huh?"

"He suggested it. Were you?"

"I spent twenty-four years with the NYPD. I just turned in my badge last summer."

Reggie nodded, and I could tell that his respect for me just went up a notch.

"So, what's the deal with the dead guy?" he asked me.

We were in the captain's office by this point, but the captain was no where to be found, so Reggie waved his hand in the direction of one of the chairs.

I was reluctant to sit and bloody up the man's furniture, but I also wasn't sure how long my legs would hold up. I was still a little shaky from the beat down.

I hadn't taken an ass-whipping like that since…well, okay it had only been a few months, back in Boston.

I carefully lowered myself into a chair and then I looked at Reggie as he continued to stand in the doorway.

He seemed like a good enough guy and the doctor from the ER seemed to like him, so I decided to go with the truth.

"Carver hired us to look for his brother. We found him about thirty seconds before he got killed."

"And your friend almost got killed, too. So you wanted to go after the shooter yourself?"

"I was just trying to buy us a little bit of time," I disclosed with a nod.

"Uh huh. How would that have gone over with you back in New York?"

"Like a lead balloon," I admitted with a grin. And then I added, "But I wouldn't have trumped up an arrest. I would've just confronted the guy and gotten him to come clean."

"That was my plan," he said after shifting his eyes out into the squad room quickly. "I wanted to go back to the hospital and talk to you. Carver said we needed to make an example out of you. He said that you and your colleagues think that rules don't apply to you."

"Huh. Is that what he said?" I mumbled thoughtfully.

I was going to get that guy. I just hadn't decided exactly how or when.

"He's a big deal around here," Reggie continued. "The word is that he's going to be the next DA."

"So it doesn't seem odd to you that he's sticking his nose into petty issues like withholding evidence?"

I knew that Reggie wouldn't answer. He didn't know me, and he wasn't going to admit to having any suspicions about Carver's motive, but I hoped that at least it would get him thinking.

"Sit here," he told me. "I'll go get you an ice pack."

"Make it two," I said as he left.

I stretched my legs out in front of me, leaned my head back and closed my eyes.

**

* * *

**

Carolyn POV

We found Carrie on a street corner two blocks from the house on Abel Street. She was leaning in the front passenger window of an old Ford pick-up truck, presumably stating her terms.

Did these girls not know about the high murder rate of hookers?

Had they never heard of the Riverside Killer?

The Brooklyn Strangler?

The damn _Green River Killer_?

"Carrie!" I called out to her. Alex and I were still a block away, but Carrie had reached for the door handle of the truck.

She looked at us and hesitated. I could tell that she was debating the merits of staying to talk to us and hit us up for cash or go with the john and see what else she could get.

The driver of the truck turned around to look at us, too.

I quickened my pace, and Alex was right with me. She subtly held up her badge.

That did the trick. In a flash, the truck was gone.

"Damn, bitches! That was my hook-up for the night," she complained.

"We've got a couple more questions for you," Alex replied calmly as she tucked her badge back into her jacket pocket.

"You didn't tell me you was no damn cop."

"I'm not."

"Then what the hell is that?" she asked, pointing at Alex's jacket.

"Nothing," I said as I snapped my fingers near her face.

She was completely blitzed and it took her several long seconds before she could focus on me.

"Now pay attention," I continued. "We need to know if you saw that fancy black car again today."

"With the shiny wheels?" she asked.

"Yeah, the shiny wheels," Alex encouraged. "Did you see it today?"

"I saw it. I saw _him_," she said meaningfully.

I got a rush from the implication. She was going to describe our guy.

I flashed Alex a grin, and watched as she pulled a twenty from her pocket and held it in front of Carrie.

It was like she'd turned on a switch, because Carrie started talking, and I was having trouble keeping up.

"I tried to, you know, get him to change teams, but he said he won't down with that and then I said, shit man, don't knock it 'til you try it and then he said step the fuck back bitch and I was like, you don't need to be trippin' like that dude and he said that he didn't need no skank-ass bitch like me hangin' on his ride and then I said that maybe I could hook him up if he'd hook me up, you know like find him an all-star if he'd throw a little blow my way and then he said sure so then I was like cool and then I went and got Lil' Mojo, cause everybody say that he's like da bomb and shit, so I made the love connection with them and then the scout tossed me an eight ball. Can you believe that shit? A fuckin' eight ball just for bringing him Lil' Mojo. I'm gonna start takin' that bitch with me everywhere I go."

She stopped to breathe and it was all I could do not to laugh. I wished I'd had a tape recorder going.

She hadn't been like this at all when we'd talked to her yesterday. Now she was amped to the hilt, but cocaine was at least good for loosening the tongue, so I wasn't going to complain.

She'd seen our guy.

"So what'd he look like?" I asked her, preparing for round two of her verbal flood.

"Who, Lil' Mojo?"

"No, the guy in the car," Alex told her. She was struggling to contain her laughter, too.

"Oh him," she said as she slowly switched her gaze from me to Alex. "Vanilla Ice mother fucker. He was trying to play the cool card but it won't his thing, you know? I mean he was all like trying to talk the talk and shit you know like he from down here or something but you can't hide rich. And he had that car so I don't know who he was trying to play unless he thought we all too stupid to know that they don't drive cars like no damn Benzes in the CG. I mean, shit that's the only Benz I ever seen, you know what I'm saying?"

"It was a Benz, or it was like a Benz?" Alex interrupted, and I gave her points for being able to get a word in.

"It was a Mercedes-Benz," she said carefully as though the word was completely foreign to her tongue. And I guess that it was. "I saw it on the dash board when I leaned in the window."

"How old was he, Carrie?" I asked her.

"Oh, honey, the dude was old, serious grandpa old. I'm talking at least forty."

"Forty? So, like my age?" I asked her.

I knew it was hard for young people to guess older people's ages so I was going to try to not be offended that she'd called the guy grandpa old and then guessed him to be two years younger than me.

"You forty? Damn girl, you still look good. Maybe you and your friend want to party with me some time?"

"Carrie," Alex said sternly to recapture the girl's focus. "Did he look older than us? Or younger?"

"Older. Shit yeah, older. And he had a ring. A big-ass gold ring that had some kind of shit on it like the um…you know the um…the um…"

We were losing her. She was jonesing for another bump.

It was time to wrap it up.

Alex handed her the twenty dollar bill, and Carrie stared at it for a long minute before tucking it into her bra.

"Oh! You know them things those old dudes used to carry like back in the day with the horses and shit and the spears and when all the dudes wore skirts…you know the um…"

"Like a shield?" Alex guessed.

"Boom, bitch! There ya go! You the shit, girl!"

I ducked my head to hide my smile as Carrie started to walk away from us.

"We good now, right? Cause you two crampin' my style if you ain't gonna join the party."

"We're good. Thanks, Carrie," I said. "Be careful, okay? Stick with the regulars."

She turned and continued down the block. I watched her go and then turned to look at Alex.

"Did you catch all of that?" I asked her with a grin.

"Hell yeah. I'm the shit," she replied smartly. "So it's a forty-something maybe fifty-something white guy in a black Mercedes and he wears a ring. Let's go pick him up."

"Hey! Bitches!"

I stopped and took a breath before I turned back around to face Carrie.

Surely she meant _bitches_ in the nicest possible way.

"Yeah?" I called out.

"You want that dude's plate?"

I glanced at Alex.

"What the hell do you think she means by plate?" I asked her quietly.

"I have no idea, and I'm almost afraid to ask."

"Yes or no?" Carrie yelled.

"Yes?" I replied uncertainly.

"DSL," she told us as she walked closer.

"Carrie, I'm sorry. I have no idea what you're talking about," I admitted.

I figured it was better to risk lowering my coolness factor than to lose out on valuable information.

"I thought it was funny," she explained. "On his plates? On his Benz? As he drove away with Lil' Mojo, I noticed them."

Ah….license plates. Oh my God, this girl was a gold mine.

"Was it Illinois plates?"

"Straight up."

"And it said DSL?"

"Yeah. It had digits on it, too, you know? Like maybe three or four. But I don't know those. I just thought the last part was funny. You know, 'cause it means…"

"We got it," Alex interrupted. "Thanks, you've really helped a lot."

She pulled out one more twenty and gave it to Carrie and then we parted ways.

"At the risk of sounding like an idiot," I told Alex as we headed down the street. "The only DSL I know refers to an internet connection speed, and I'm sure that's not what Carrie was talking about."

Alex laughed, but then her phone started buzzing so she didn't answer me.

"Good timing," she said when she looked at the display. "It's Bobby. We'll get him started searching for the Benz."

TBC...


	17. Chapter 17

**Bobby POV**

* * *

Alex was laughing when she answered the phone.

Just that sound alone made me smile, even though I had no idea what had amused her.

Funny how a little thing that that can change your whole perspective.

I'd been sitting in this damn bed for three hours. Well, longer than that, but it had been three hours since they'd left. I was about to go out of my mind.

Being still was not my thing.

Alex had checked in with me after they'd gone through the house on Abel Street, and so I knew they were going to walk the streets of Cabrini Green after that, and the more I thought about the two of them out there, the more worried I got.

So I finally gave in to my burning need for confirmation that everything was copasetic and I called.

And she was laughing.

"What's so funny?" I asked her.

"Um…we got a partial plate on the black car," she replied. I could tell she was trying to be business-like, but right now I could use some entertainment.

"And that's funny how?"

"Carrie remembered it because it's DSL," she told me. "And Carolyn doesn't know what it means."

I could hear Carolyn's indignant response in the background.

"_You didn't have to tell him that!" _

But she was laughing, too.

"Something Carolyn doesn't know," I mused, smiling at the sound of them. "Yeah, make fun of her while you have the chance, because that doesn't happen very often."

"You don't know what it means either, do you?" she asked me knowingly.

Damn, how did she do that?

"Sure I do."

"What?"

"What does it mean?" I asked, stalling.

DSL?

I couldn't even hazard a guess.

"Yeah."

"I…um…I don't want to say right now. There are other people in the room," I lied.

"You can't lie to me, Bobby," she told me. And then she lowered her voice and said, "But I promise to tell you later."

And why is it that the way she said that caused my heart rate to increase? Quite a bit actually, and I had the visual aid of the monitor next to me to prove it.

"But seriously," she continued. "We've got a partial plate and Carrie said the car is a Mercedes-Benz. We also found out that the first murder victim, a guy named Yoyo, used to go off with the driver of the Benz. They had some kind of regular arrangement. Yoyo got killed, and suddenly Derek's going with him."

"So how do Cabbage and his gang connect with the Benz driver?" I asked, forcing myself back into work mode.

"That we don't know. We thought we'd ask around a little more and then come back to the hospital. Do you think you can get started looking through the DMV records?"

"You want me to hack into the Illinois DMV database?" I asked quietly, because now I did have someone else in the room. The nurse had just come in to check my vitals.

"Give it a shot, anyway. I don't have a year for the Benz, but my guess would be late-model. Oh, hang on a second."

I listened to Alex talking with Carolyn while the nurse poked and prodded at my sore arm. Couldn't they just leave it the hell alone? How was it supposed to heal if they came in and irritated it every hour?

"Carolyn says to go through her contacts on her phone and find the number for Ricky Reynolds. Give him a call and drop Carolyn's name. He owes her. He'll give us what we need on the car."

"At ten o'clock on a Sunday night?" I asked. I heard her repeat the question to Carolyn and then she came back on the line. "He's in Shenzhen. She says don't ask why. But anyway, it's eleven a.m. on Monday where he is."

China. Why did it not surprise me that her contact wasn't state-side?

"So just call him and give him her name?"

"She said if you give him the car information and the partial, he'll have a short list for us within minutes."

"I'll make the call," I told her.

Carolyn was handy to have around. I guess working for the Bureau had given her the opportunity to meet quite a wide range of individuals with varying skills.

I hung up with Alex and waited patiently for the nurse to finish.

"Everything looks good, Mr. Goren," she told me with a smile.

Great. _Now let me get the hell out of here before I go stir crazy_.

I made the call to the mysterious Ricky Reynolds. He had a Spanish accent. He spoke in English to me. Twice he asked me to hold on and while I waited, I could hear him speak Chinese to someone once and the other time he spoke a language I didn't recognize.

But Carolyn was right.

Within ten minutes, he sent an email to Carolyn's phone with a list of eighteen Mercedes-Benzes registered in Illinois with the partial plate of DSL. Registrations don't differentiate color, but we were without a doubt a damn sight closer to finding this guy than we'd been ten minutes ago.

This was great progress, although I wasn't sure what it was going to tell us. The guy in the car wasn't the killer. At least, I didn't think so. But he did have the distinction of being seen with two men in the time prior to their deaths, so it was likely that he knew something.

We definitely needed to find him.

I checked the clock again as I reorganized my notes. Eighteen names. That wouldn't take me too long to just do a Google search on them. Maybe something would pop.

It wasn't like I had anything better to do.

I connected Carolyn's data card to the laptop and sat back to wait while it accessed the internet.

It was almost ten-thirty.

Ross would be landing any minute, so hopefully he would take care of getting Logan out of jail.

Ross…it was hard for me to grasp the idea that he was flying to Chicago to help us out of a jam. This was the same man who had continually ridden my back and second-guessed me and talked down to me...for awhile there it had seemed as though he loathed every word that came out of my mouth just on principle alone.

Somehow, that had all changed.

_Somehow_. Ha.

It all stemmed from Alex.

She was the reason for everything good in my life.

My internet status changed to green, so I pulled open a browser and got busy.

I got so absorbed in my searches, that I didn't even hear the door to my room open, so I was startled when the nurse drew back the curtain.

"Can I get you anything, Mr. Goren?" she asked me.

How was anyone supposed to think in this place?

I was six names in by this point, and another quick check of the clock told me that it was nearly midnight.

_Time flies_, I thought.

"I'm fine," I replied distractedly as I typed in the seventh name.

"I saw your wife come in a minute ago. She's talking with Dr. Carter. I'm sure she'll be in here in just a minute, so let me take care of what I need to do and then I'll get out of your way, okay?"

My wife. I could hear it a million times and still not be used to it. And it would always make me smile.

I clicked on a link that the seventh name had provided and then I sat still and read the page while the nurse checked everything over yet again.

It was possible that I'd scored a hit.

And the more I read, the more I was sure that this was our guy.

"You still look great, Mr. Goren," the nurse told me as she finished up.

"I bet you say that to all your patients," I teased.

My discovery along with the fact that my Alex was back had combined to put me in a fantastic mood.

"Just the really handsome ones," she replied, obviously an old hand at deflecting harmless flirtation.

And it was definitely harmless.

I kept my eyes focused on the door waiting for Alex to come in.

And she did, right as the nurse was leaving.

"I didn't mean to scare away your groupie," Alex told me with a grin.

Her hair was windblown and her cheeks were red. Her sweatshirt had dirt across the front of it and so did her jeans. In fact, it looked like she had a smudge of something on her cheek, too.

She was simply beautiful.

"Where's Carolyn?" I asked as I held out my hand to her. She crossed the room and then pulled the curtain closed before coming to stand beside the bed.

"She went to get us some coffee. I have a feeling it's going to be a long night. I got a text from Ross. He's in town and was almost to the police station when he sent the message. That was about hour ago, though, and I don't know anything more about Mike yet."

I had the bed in a sitting-up position, and the covers were pooled around my waist. Of course, I had on the always-lovely hospital gown which I'm sure was a huge turn-on for her.

But I couldn't help myself.

The whole time she was talking, I was pulling her down closer to me.

She came in increments, oblivious to my intent. She sat on the edge of the bed, then placed one hand on the opposite side of my hip so that she was leaning across my body, then slowly got closer to my face as I continued to ease her forward.

I hadn't asked about Carolyn because I wanted an update. Not just yet anyway.

I'd asked about Carolyn so that I could find out if we'd have a few minutes to ourselves.

And we did.

"Bobby," she said as I slid my hand around to the back of her head and brought her lips to mine.

"I missed you," I whispered as I closed the remaining distance.

The kiss was far from chaste and my arousal built quickly. I groaned my approval when she leaned closer, resting her chest against mine, and then she ran one hand up into my hair. She moved her mouth away from mine and started kissing my neck as she stroked my hair.

"How much time?" I managed to ask her.

"Before Carolyn gets here?" she asked, her breath brushing across my ear. "I don't know."

I grabbed her hand and moved it downward, settling it firmly against the evidence of my arousal.

"Not that long," she chuckled, although she increased the pressure against me briefly and then slid her hand under the sheets and beneath my gown.

I pushed my head back against the pillow and closed my eyes.

She was _so_ good at this.

Who am I kidding?

She's good at everything.

"You know we can't finish this," she told me softly. She moved against me again and now I was able to slip my hand down the back of her pants like I had done earlier.

_Earlier when I'd passed out in a drug-induced stupor_. I could kick myself for letting that opportunity go to waste.

"I know…I just…I just…your skin is so soft," I said, ignoring her statement.

And I knew we needed to stop. I just couldn't bring myself to stop just yet.

I was glad that the nurse had just recently been in to check me over, because it would surely take me a little while to settle my body back down, but it was worth it.

It was definitely worth it.

And then apparently, Alex's voice of reason won out.

She slowly, and I'd like to think reluctantly, stopped her movements and brought her hand back out to rest on top of the covers. She kissed me once again, a lingering, seductive exploration, and then she sat up straight on the bed.

"That was…I'm _really_ sorry that we have to stop," she said with a shy smile. "Maybe we can pick that up again later."

"Are you going to stay here with me?"

"Of course. Did you think that I wouldn't?"

"I wasn't sure."

"Be sure," she said.

She leaned down and kissed my forehead and then got up from the bed and opened the curtain. I adjusted the bed-table so that it was more strategically located.

"I think I found the link between Cabbage and the Benz guy," I told her, gradually shifting myself into work mode again.

Not a moment too soon either because before I could fill her in, Carolyn came breezing through the door.

"Dr. Carter said you can have coffee," she announced. "I'm not sure if he meant this late at night, but I brought you one if you want it."

She set it on the table and then looked quickly back and forth between me and Alex.

"Did I miss something?" she asked with a smile.

Damn, she was observant.

Of course, we were a little obvious.

I was hanging onto the table tightly so that it didn't get shifted away from where it needed to be, and Alex was five feet away from me with a flushed face and swollen lips.

"Bobby was getting ready to tell us about a connection that he found," Alex said slowly, and then she picked up her momentum. "I take it the call to Carolyn's contact panned out?"

"Yeah, he was great. He emailed a list, and I started doing a Google search on the names to see if maybe I could eliminate anyone, but guess what I found?"

They both shrugged and waited.

"Van Miller. He's the registered owner of a Benz with DSL on the plates. And he was convicted in 1994 for possession with intent to distribute. Cocaine."

"Okay…" Carolyn said. "So he might be the guy, but there has to be more."

"There is," I told her with a grin. "This was in San Diego. Some college kid at USC wrote an essay on the infiltration of cocaine in America. He cited Van Miller as the perfect example. The essay stated that Miller's m.o. was to cozy up with a street gang and use the members as his dealers. Miller would bring the coke in from South America using mules and then he'd pass it on to the gang members to sell for him."

"So you think he's back at it and he's using Cabbage's gang to sell it?" Alex posed. "If it's the right guy…"

"And," I continued. "When Miller got arrested, a young prostitute was with him. A young _male_ prostitute."

"That has to be our guy," Carolyn said. "Damn, Bobby, even in a hospital bed you manage to solve the case."

"Well, that still doesn't tell us who our killer is. And besides, you guys got the plate number," I reminded her. "And your contact got the list of names."

"So we've got Van Miller's address," Alex remarked. "We need to go pay him a visit."

"Not tonight, though," I clarified. "Let's wait and hear from Ross. We need to make sure his friend can get Logan out of jail."

We didn't have to wait. The words were no sooner out of my mouth when Ross and Logan walked into the room.

"Mike, what happened?" Carolyn asked quickly when she saw Logan.

It was my thought exactly, because he had been worked over good. One eye was swollen shut and he had blood crusted on his mouth and nose.

Although I looked at his hands and saw that his knuckles were bloody, too, so he'd put up a good fight.

"Carver told the CPD that I used to be a cop. One of them told my cellmates," he said calmly. "How are you doing?" he asked me.

"Better. I'll be ready to leave in the morning."

"I'm going to get Dr. Carter," Alex said. It was a good idea, because even Mike's good eye had apparently ruptured a vessel. It was completely blood-red.

"And thanks for coming," Alex added hastily to Ross as she passed him.

"Dr. Carter is still here? Does he live here?" Mike asked as Alex left the room.

I was glad to see that he was in good spirits. He wasn't letting his temper get the best of him.

Although Carolyn might.

He and she seemed to have switched roles since this afternoon.

"Carver told them?" she asked hotly. "And the cops told the prisoners?"

"I'm on it," Ross spoke up. "My friend is the captain at the 11th district. He already suspended the cop involved. As for Carver…I'm not sure what to do about him yet."

"I've got a few ideas," Carolyn muttered as she tended to Mike.

I watched Ross as he looked around the room.

Me in the bed with a gunshot wound.

Logan next to him, having just been sprung from jail and beaten all to hell.

Carolyn was dirty and looked a mess after her time on the streets. Alex had pretty much looked the same.

"You missed us, didn't you?" I joked.

"You've been gone two days. You didn't really give me a chance to miss you yet," he replied, although I noticed a hint of a smile on his face.

_The man had flown to Chicago at the drop of a hat..._

"We appreciate you flying out here. It's…" I began.

"Unexpected? Yeah, I know, but it sounded like you guys needed some help."

"And you wanted to avoid meeting the new guys, huh?" Logan asked him knowingly.

Ross gave him the obligatory eye roll and ignored the question.

"So get me up to speed," he said to me. "What do we know and what comes next?"

TBC...


	18. Chapter 18

**Ross POV**

* * *

I worried throughout the entire flight.

I worried about Goren in the hospital. Gunshot wounds were a tricky thing, and an infection could come on at any time.

I worried about Logan in jail. I'd said for him to keep his mouth shut, but that wasn't exactly his forte.

I worried what the other Goren might be doing. She and Carolyn were undoubtedly out on the streets of Chicago, searching for the shooter.

What I _didn't_ worry about was the commissioner's response to my request for time off. I'd left it on his voice mail. He was likely going to be mad as hell, but he'd get over it.

I also didn't worry about Liz. She was a rock, and expectedly supportive.

"Call in your favors, Danny," she'd told me when I let her know of my plans. "Every last one of them."

"I will," I promised her.

"Call me when you get there," she added.

"I will," I said again with a smile.

For some reason, and I don't even want to try to analyze why, but for some reason, Liz and I have gotten closer in the past couple of months.

_Since I'd loosened up about the Gorens_.

And maybe that was all there was to it, but I thought that it might be something else.

Maybe it was because the Gorens were infectious. Spending time with them made me want to be…more.

More dependable.

More honorable.

More tenacious.

Just…more.

When I arrived in Chicago, I sent Liz a text and then grabbed a cab and went to the police station.

"I'm here to see Captain Coulter," I told the desk sergeant. He directed me to the third floor, and as soon as I got off the elevator, I could hear Tom's voice.

"If you ever do something like that again, I'll have your badge permanently! Do you understand me?"

I tried not to smile as I walked past the conference room where some poor beat cop was getting his ass handed to him.

Tom and I had worked together a long time ago…a _very _long time ago. Back when we were both still in uniform.

I would never admit it now, but it hadn't been all that unusual for either one of us to be on the receiving end of an ass-chewing like that.

"Can I help you?" an officer asked me as I looked around the squad room. I noticed that he held two ice packs in his hand.

"I know your captain is busy at the moment, but if you could point me to his office, I'd appreciate it," I said. "I'm an old friend."

"Captain Ross?" he asked me. I nodded and he held out his free hand. "I'm Reggie Moore. Captain Coulter said that he was expecting you. Come on, I'm headed to his office now."

I followed the officer down another hall and then into an office.

I hadn't expected to see Logan there, and certainly not in the condition he was in.

He sat in a chair with his feet stretched out in front of him and his head back against the wall behind him. His eyes were closed, although I wasn't completely sure that he could open them at all. The swelling on one side was tremendous.

I gave Officer Moore a questioning look as he approached Logan with the ice pack, but he didn't offer an explanation. I saw that there were two melted packs on the table next to Logan, so he was clearly on round two of attempting to ease his inflamed face.

"Mr. Logan," the officer said gently. He held out the ice packs to Mike, who slowly opened one eye. He took the proffered ice and as he placed one pack against his eye, I saw the other eye settle on me.

"Captain," he said, sitting up a little straighter in the chair.

"Should I even ask?"

"My roommates were none to pleased to have a cop in their midst," he replied sardonically.

He shifted again and it looked like the movement caused him some pain. He held the ice pack with one hand, and then he managed to let the second pack rest against the back of his other hand.

"Why'd you tell them you were a cop?" I asked him.

Okay, so maybe it was a stupid question. And judging by the look on his face, it was _definitely_ a stupid question.

"That was my partner," Officer Moore spoke up. And then it became clear.

"I suppose that's the guy Captain Coulter is reaming down the hall?"

"One and the same."

"You okay, Mike, or do you need a doctor?"

"As soon as I can get out of here, we're going to the hospital anyway. I'm sure Carolyn will force me to get checked out."

I nodded at that. He was right, and she would be right to press the issue. He really looked bad.

"I'm sorry, Captain. It's been a bitch of a day," he told me, I assumed in reference to his less than enthusiastic greeting. "But thank you for coming. Really."

"No problem. I'm glad I can help."

"Yeah, you do owe them, don't you?"

He was smug, but he was once again right. I wasn't going to crucify him for speaking the truth.

"Even if I didn't, I'd still come to help," I told him.

Because I'd like to think that I would.

I was starting to care enough about them, about all of them. I'd like to think that I was someone that they would always call if they needed help. Even if I didn't owe them.

Tom came into the office shortly thereafter and handed Logan an envelope which contained his personal effects.

"Fill me in," I told Tom after we shook hands and got through the requisite yet condensed catch-up period.

"Carver really pressed hard," Coulter told me. "He was pretty upset about his brother getting killed, and even more so that it wasn't one of us who gave him the notification. He said your boy Logan was somewhat less than sympathetic."

I glanced over at Logan. He had barely moved since I entered the office, but I knew he was listening to every word.

People liked to underestimate him by thinking he was all brawn and no brain. Hell, I'd done it myself. But now I knew better.

Even after the beating he'd taken, his mind was probably running a hundred miles an hour.

At the mention of Carver, Logan finally spoke up.

"Carver didn't give a damn about his brother. He sees the murder as a political godsend. Now he doesn't have a shameful addict sibling who he has to worry about during his campaign."

"Do you always bend to the wishes of an ADA?" I asked Tom before he could respond to Logan. I didn't want the two of them to get into a verbal sparring match.

"You know me better than that," he replied. "I didn't hear about it until you called. Carver talked to the desk sergeant, who sent Moore and Fisher out to pick him up."

"You didn't process him?" I asked. Logan sat back again, apparently comfortable with the idea that I was going to handle the situation.

"No. He can go. But I can't have you and your boys running a vigilante investigation in my city. I don't expect you to sit idly by, but I do expect to be kept in the loop."

Logan barked out a laugh, although I had no idea why. Maybe because of Coulter's reference to _me and my boys_? I had a feeling Alex and Carolyn would love being put into that category.

I agreed to keep him up to speed, although I knew that I was lying when I said it.

I had no doubt that Logan had more information than he'd divulged so far, but I was coming into this blind. I wanted to hear the whole story before we decided as a group how much we were going to tell to whom.

They didn't work for me any more. I was going to come at this as an equal at best.

I wasn't going to try to exercise any type of authority, because I didn't have any.

I'd barely had any when I was their boss.

I said goodbye to Tom, and promised to be in touch. I held the door open for Logan, and was glad to see that he was able to stand a little easier than I'd expected.

"Thanks for the ice," he said to Officer Moore as we left. Reggie gave him a nod and a smile.

"You have my apologies, Mr. Logan," Tom told him. "Rest assured that Officer Fisher is on suspension. There will be no charges filed against you for assault."

"Assault?" I asked in outrage. "He was jumped while in a jail cell! _Your_ jail cell."

"One of them had to go to the hospital," he replied. "He's got some broken ribs and a punctured lung."

I looked at Logan, but he just shrugged and looked away.

"Who threw the first punch?" I asked him.

"The first punch that landed or just the first punch?" he replied wryly.

"It was four on one," Officer Moore spoke up in defense of Logan. "And Cal incited the fight."

"I know," Tom said. "Cal admitted to it. Like I said, no charges will be filed. For that, or for withholding evidence. I'll let Mr. Carver know that we're not in the habit of arresting witnesses."

"No, don't," Logan replied. "I'll tell him myself."

We barely spoke in the cab on the way to the hospital.

"I'd rather wait and we can all tell you the details together. I'm sure the others have new information by now," Logan had said when we got in the cab. And then he leaned his head back against the seat.

"Have you taken anything?" I asked him after a few minutes.

"I don't exactly carry pain pills around with me in my pocket," he replied.

"Maybe you should," I told him. He looked at me then and smiled.

"Good point. Maybe I should," he agreed.

Twenty minutes later, we pulled up at the ER entrance of Cook County General. I paid the cabbie and we went through the doors. A nurse hustled over to us, obviously assuming that Logan was a patient.

"I'm here to see a friend," he argued. "I don't need to be checked out."

"Yet," I added.

I followed Logan down a hall, and then into a room.

"Mike, what happened?" Carolyn asked when she saw Logan.

"Carver told the CPD that I used to be a cop. One of them told my cellmates," he said, deflecting her concern. "How are you doing?" he asked Goren.

I looked at the original Goren as he sat up in the hospital bed. Damn, the man had worked under me for four years and was never once shot. He retires, and two days later, he's in the hospital.

But he looked decent. Hell, he looked a lot better than Logan.

"Better. I'll be ready to leave in the morning."

"I'm going to get Dr. Carter," the other Goren said, and for the first time since entering the room, I let my focus fall onto her.

She was barely recognizable from the professional detective I'd seen on Friday, but she had the same spark, the same drive. She definitely looked tired, but also determined. And worried.

"And thanks for coming," she said quickly to me as she went by.

I gave her an answering nod.

I knew that my presence didn't trump the immediate concern of Logan's health, and I wasn't so self-absorbed as to think that it would or should.

"Dr. Carter is still here? Does he live here?" Logan asked as she left the room.

I didn't know how the man could make jokes at such a time, but he was resilient. It wasn't the first beating he'd ever taken. It reminded me vaguely of the time he'd gotten into a brawl with half of a firehouse, only this time he looked worse.

And yet he was calm. Carolyn, on the other hand, was still spitting nails.

"Carver told them?" she asked hotly. "And the cops told the prisoners?"

"I'm on it," I told her. "My friend is the captain at the 11th district. He already suspended the cop involved. As for Carver…I'm not sure what to do about him yet."

"I've got a few ideas," Carolyn muttered as she tended to Mike.

I looked around the room again at everyone. I felt bad for them, that this was their first case together and yet it seemed to be going all to hell, quickly.

But I was also glad that I could help. I could do something, even if it was only paving the way for good relations between them and the locals. It was something.

I caught Goren watching me, and I was surprised when he made a joke.

"You missed us, didn't you?" he asked.

"You've been gone two days. You didn't really give me a chance to miss you yet," I told him, fighting hard to control the smile.

I _did_ miss them.

"We appreciate you flying out here. It's…"

"Unexpected," I filled in. "Yeah, I know. But it sounded like you guys needed some help."

"And you wanted to avoid meeting the new guys, huh?" Logan asked.

He was right that I didn't want to meet them, but of course that wasn't why I'd come.

I rolled my eyes at him because I knew that was what he expected, and then decided that it was time to get down to business. I needed to know what they knew, and then the four of them needed some rest.

"So get me up to speed," I said. "What do we know and what comes next?"

We spent the next hour going over the facts of the case. I couldn't believe what they had stumbled into, and I was infuriated with Carver's actions. His silence had recklessly endangered their lives.

"So you think that Miller is a drug czar and he's using the street gang to distribute," I stated. "How did Yoyo's murder play into it?"

"Either Derek killed Yoyo so that he could take over as Miller's boy-toy," Carolyn suggested. She'd just come back into the room with Logan a few minutes earlier. The doctor had insisted on x-rays, but apparently everything came back negative. "Or maybe Yoyo saw something he shouldn't have, and they killed him to shut him up."

"But Derek saw it happen," Goren added. "Maybe they tried to buy his silence with drugs, but after Benji told the cops that there was a witness, it became too risky. Cabbage's lawyer would've had that information, and passed it on to him, so then Cabbage got the word out to his gang, and the hit was set."

A nurse kicked us out shortly after one a.m., so the Logans and I headed for the hotel. I wasn't surprised to learn that both Gorens were going to stay at the hospital, although it did catch me off guard when the female Goren gave me her room key.

"The hotel is completely booked," she said simply. "And we don't need the room tonight. We'll have time tomorrow to make other arrangements."

I wasn't completely comfortable with the idea of sleeping in their hotel room. It just seemed…strange. Especially knowing that when they left there this morning, they'd had no idea that they wouldn't be coming back.

Had they left personal belongings strewn about the room? Were they messy people in their home life, or were they neat?

I would soon find out.

I insisted on taking a cab because it would be quicker than the El, and Logan needed to be horizontal as soon as possible. The hospital had given him a shot of Demerol before we left, and I had a feeling that he would be out cold as soon as he got to his room.

"Meet us in the lobby at eight?" Carolyn suggested as the elevator went to the second floor. Logan was leaning on her heavily and I wondered idly how she was able to support his weight.

"Okay," I agreed. "Do you need some help with him?" Logan appeared to be asleep on his feet.

"We'll be fine," she assured me. She got him moving when the doors opened on their floor, but then she stopped. "Hey, you should get some clothes together for Bobby. He doesn't have anything for when they discharge him."

I hadn't planned on touching anything in their room other than the bed and the bathroom, but I couldn't argue with her logic. The man would need some clothes.

I gave her a nod as the doors began to close. But then I realized that the other Goren probably didn't have anything either. _Shit_.

"Carolyn," I asked as I stuck my hand against the door to make it stop.

"How about if I come up to the room in the morning? That way I can get something for both of them," she amended, having easily read my hesitation. I breathed out a sigh of relief.

"Okay. Eight o'clock."

The doors closed and I continued up to the fourth floor. Maybe I was being juvenile, I'm not sure, but the thought of going through the Gorens' suitcase was just a little bit too much for me.

I didn't need to see her underwear.

Twenty minutes later, I was in the room and had changed out of my suit. I carefully eyed both beds.

_Which one had they slept in_? It wasn't like the maid would've changed the sheets.

And I really, _really_ didn't want to think about their sex life, but considering I was going to be sleeping in one of these beds, it was hard _not_ to think about it.

But both beds were immaculately made, so it was impossible to tell.

In fact, the whole room was spotless.

My detectives were neat and organized people.

_My detectives_. Huh.

It would take me awhile to quit thinking about them that way.

But they were neat. No personal belongings were in sight, other than their toiletries which were set out on the bathroom counter.

My cell phone rang, so I grabbed it from the dresser where I had set it along with my duffle bag and wallet.

"You didn't call me," Liz said softly as soon as I answered. And I hadn't, but the text that I'd sent had stated that I would call her when I got to the hotel.

"I just now got to my room," I told her. "You should be asleep."

It was late here, but even later there.

"I wanted to talk to you first. Is everyone okay?"

"Goren gets out in the morning. Logan got beat up while he was in jail, but he checked out okay."

"Danny…" she said with concern.

"I know," I said on a sigh. "But really, he'll be fine."

I needed to pick a bed. I was too tired to keep standing here thinking about it.

"What does this case look like?"

"It looks like the Gorens haven't lost their penchant for finding trouble," I replied sarcastically. "It went from ugly to uglier, but they're on top of it. They got some good information this evening, and hopefully tomorrow some of the leads will pan out."

"They were open to having you help?"

"It looks that way. They gave me their room to stay in tonight. She's at the hospital with him."

I don't know why I had so much trouble using their first names. I _really_ needed to work on that.

"So you're in their room?"

"Yeah."

"Did you snoop?" she asked in a teasing voice.

"What? No!"

"Oh come on, Danny. Aren't you curious?"

"About what?"

"I don't know. Boxers or briefs. Cotton or silk. Sex toys or…"

"Liz!" I interrupted. "No, I'm not curious. I really don't want to know."

"Where's your sense of adventure?"

"I'm not going to violate their privacy. They trusted me to stay here. That means they trust me not to go digging through their stuff. I can't believe you think that I would."

She chuckled during my self-righteous indignation, and eventually I had to laugh, too.

"Okay, fine," she said at last. And then she dropped her voice and whispered, "So what are you wearing?"

My laughter died down as I realized that she was serious.

She wanted to have phone sex with me while I was in the Gorens' hotel room.

_And why not?_ I mean really.

It's not like they were in here _with me_.

"You first," I said to her. I hadn't had phone sex in quite some time, but I was pretty sure I remembered how.

_Pick a bed_, _Danny_.

I finally decided that Goren would've picked the one furthest from the door. It would allow for more reaction time in case of a break-in.

So, I pulled the covers back on the bed closest to the door and as I listened to my wife describe her attire, or rather lack thereof, I climbed in and clicked off the light.

TBC...


	19. Chapter 19

**Bobby POV**

* * *

I've spent the night in a hospital a time or two. As a patient and as a guest.

It had had never been my idea of fun, but then again, I've never done it with Alex.

Not since we'd gotten together anyway.

I had of course stayed with her after she'd escaped from Jo Gage, but that was different. _Completely different_.

She'd been trying to maintain a tough exterior.

I'd been wracked with guilt.

I'd spent the entire night at her bedside watching her as she dozed fitfully. She'd had a nightmare and I hadn't let myself comfort her. I couldn't. Not physically anyway, because back then, we still didn't touch.

It was a time that I would rather forget, except that remembering it only made me so much more grateful for what we had now.

But so this hospital stay was different.

She wasn't hurt; I was. And if I had my choice, I'd go with that scenario every time.

There were no feelings of guilt involved. No need for either of us to hide behind a carefully constructed façade.

It was just her and me, in a curtained-off corner of an otherwise empty room.

"You're quiet," I told her as the silence stretched on. It wasn't uncomfortable silence, but I knew she wasn't sleeping so I was curious to know what was on her mind.

It had certainly been an emotional day.

"I'm trying to remember if I left anything lying around in the hotel room that I shouldn't have," she mumbled to me from her position against my chest.

The nurse had offered her a couch in the family room, but Alex had quickly declined, choosing instead to snuggle up against my good side.

"You mean like your underwear?" I asked on a chuckle. "No, the room was clean," I assured her.

"I can't believe Ross came, can you?" she asked.

"And he's acting normal," I added as I weaved my fingers through her hair. "It feels strange, doesn't it?"

"Um hm," she said softly. "I'm glad he's here, though. Otherwise it might've taken us longer to get Mike out of jail."

"He sure took a beating," I said, immediately calling to mind the image of Mike, bruised and battered.

"It's not the first one," she replied, and I wondered what she knew.

Did she just mean the ones at the fire station and in Boston?

Or had she heard about more?

I knew some things about Mike, but his past was one of the few things I didn't share with Alex. The only thing, really. I wasn't going to break Mike's confidence, even to my wife.

But I also knew that she and he had spent some time together.

And she was quite astute, my Alex.

"No," I agreed. "And it won't be the last, I'm sure."

"This one could've been avoided. This is on Carver."

I could feel the tension returning to her body despite my efforts to relax her.

"I wonder if we can get the cops to stand up against Carver," I pondered.

"I don't know, but I'm not leaving this city until we take care of everything. We're going to find the shooter, unravel this Van Miller drug ring, _and _see Carver get what's coming to him."

"Am I supposed to try to talk you out of something?" I asked her, trying to get a smile out of her. "Because usually we do this the other way around."

She chuckled for a moment and settled her hand over my heart. I realized that it was the same thing that she'd done earlier in the day.

"I'm fine," I whispered to her.

"I know."

The mood changed from teasing to serious.

I wondered how much this situation was going to prey on her mind.

Two husbands, both shot. One dead, one nearly.

Surely it had occurred to her before we got together.

Surely she had recognized the parallels and the dangers of becoming involved with another cop.

Even if I wasn't still a cop officially, I was always going to be chasing after bad guys. It's what I do. And she knows that.

"Did you think about this before?" I asked her softly.

She didn't answer right away, which told me that she knew what I was asking. We were in synch, as usual.

Her hand stroked a slow calm pattern over my heart as she formulated her response.

The intimacy of the moment was not lost on me. It felt like we were the only two people in the world.

"You know that I did," she said finally. "I…it's…the thought kept me away longer…"

I waited patiently as she battled with herself to find the right words.

She usually tried to avoid examining her own feelings. It was easier for her to breeze past the highs and lows and simply power ahead.

But sometimes that was cause for snags later on.

"I was scared," she admitted at last, and I was secretly thrilled by her confession. Not the words themselves of course, but that she wasn't going to try to gloss it over. She was going to talk. "For a long time, I was scared. The idea of being with another cop and running the risk of losing you…it was daunting. I might've gotten over my fear of crossing the line with you a little sooner if it weren't for that."

"But you did get over your fear. You came to me," I reminded her.

And not a day went by that I wasn't grateful for her bravery that day.

"I didn't get over it," she countered. "I just realized that the fear wasn't going to go away. Whether I told you that I loved you or not, I did love you. I _do_ love you. Staying away from you wasn't going to make that change."

"Do you think the fear would be less if you hadn't lost Joe the way that you did?"

It was a bold question, and not one I would've asked until very recently. But we'd grown so much together that now I felt comfortable asking.

"No," she said, which surprised me. "Well, maybe but not in the way that you think."

I silently begged for no interruptions.

I wanted to hear what she had to say and this wasn't one of those conversations that you could just pick up in the middle.

We'd meandered here due to circumstances. It was the mood of the moment that led us to this particular time and place.

"I know what it's like. I know the feeling of fear and dread and loss and…everything that goes along with losing a spouse. I know about getting that call in the middle of the night, and rushing to the hospital, and the looks on the doctors' faces when they tell you that there is nothing they can do. I know all of that," she stated, and she paused to take a breath. I put my hand over top of hers, running my finger tips along the back of her hand.

"So even though my feelings for him weren't the same," she continued. "I can easily equate that knowledge to a similar situation with you. It's a baseline, one that I wouldn't have had if not for what happened to Joe. I would have still been terrified of losing you, but I wouldn't have had any real feelings that I could associate."

She was blowing my mind. And everyone thinks that I'm the smart one.

"You've given this a lot of thought," I said simply. She'd said more words in the past minute than she did in some entire days, but I was pleased with her inspection of her feelings.

It would help her in the long run.

"Today, yes," she admitted. "Earlier when I told you that this was nothing like before, I meant it. I'd known that my feelings with Joe paled in comparison to what I have with you, but I didn't consider how much my fear was also exponentially higher."

Keeping a hold of my hand, she reached up and kissed my cheek.

"The love is greater, the risk is higher," she added. "For everything. For happiness, for fulfillment and for heartbreak."

"So…"

"So I'd take the risk every time. You know that," she said, her tone finally lightening.

"Thank you," I told her sincerely. "Thank you for explaining that to me. It's hard for me to know what you're feeling when I haven't been through the same experiences."

"You've been through your own experiences that have to be surfacing due to this case," she replied.

I instantly knew what she meant. Frank.

My first instinct was to avoid the topic.

But we were always partners, Alex and I. From day one. Sure, we'd had our ups and downs, but for the most part, we were equals in everything.

And that hadn't changed just because we were now married. In fact, the marriage had only solidified our equality even more.

And she'd just spent a few gut-wrenching moments analyzing her innermost thoughts and fears.

Not that she would ever tell me that it was now my turn to reciprocate, but it just was.

Because that was how we did things.

"I hate to say it, but I can almost appreciate what Carver has gone through."

"Please," she began. "Please do not tell me that you can sympathize with that man."

I knew that she didn't want to hear it. But I couldn't censor my thoughts, and I wasn't going to censor my words either, not with her.

"I don't condone his actions," I clarified. "I'm just saying that I can appreciate his situation."

She was quiet, waiting for me to elaborate, so I did.

"It was a never-ending cycle with Frank," I continued. "And for a long time, I bought into his lies. But he made promises that he never kept, never intended to keep, and I finally had to step away. What kind of brother does that? And how does that make me any different from Carver? He stepped away just like I did."

"Carver sees his brother as an inconvenient speed bump on his road to success. He turned his back on his brother because he was ashamed of him, and because he thought Derek was beneath him," she said, her annoyance with Carver coming through in her tone. "You tried to help Frank, and you risked your career and your life to help his son. But he took advantage of you at every opportunity. He always wanted more from you. You needed to walk away when you did."

"Like Carver."

"You two are not the same, not even close. Carver is relieved that Derek is dead. You grieved for Frank. You have memories of him to cherish from before he started to self-destruct. You never let yourself forget how he was before the drugs."

I nodded thoughtfully at her assessment. She had a point. However Carver had felt about his brother growing up, he seemed to have only loathing for him now.

I had mixed feelings for Frank and they ran the whole gamut. I despised him for succumbing to the lure of drugs, and yet I always thought, somewhere in the back of my mind, that he could beat it. He was my big brother. I always wanted to give him the opportunity to make good.

"I hated him," I admitted to her. "And I loved him."

"Of course you did," she said as she resumed her stroking on my chest. "You had the shared experience of growing up in the same house. It created a bond between the two of you."

"I think that was part of the reason it hurt so much. He was my only brother. I thought that he was the only one who could know what I went through growing up because we went through it together. I thought that he was the only one who could possibly understand."

"Thought?" she asked, perceptively picking up on my use of past tense.

"Apparently, I don't have the market cornered on a crappy childhood," I said wryly. "And it is doesn't require blood ties to be someone's brother."

We fell back into silence, each lost in our own thoughts.

I felt a little better than I had before we talked. I was confused about my feelings for Frank, and it helped to say them out loud to someone who I knew wouldn't judge me.

I had been worried that my own actions were similar to Carver's, and it was probably why I wasn't more upset with him than I was.

But she was right. We weren't the same.

"How long do you think we have before that nurse comes back?" Alex asked me, and it didn't matter how serious our conversation had been just moments before.

It didn't matter that we were in a hospital bed, or that I only had one good arm, or that it was damn near three a.m.

None of that mattered, because her simple question sent a tingling jolt straight down to my toes.

The entire mood in the room had changed, going from emotionally charged to sexually charged with her casual inquiry.

"Why?" I asked easily, as though she couldn't feel my heart thundering beneath her hand.

"Maybe we can finish what we started earlier," she said huskily.

"In here?" I asked her, although I was fine with it. It might be a little embarrassing if the nurse decided to stop in earlier than usual, but that remote possibility wasn't enough for me to turn down her offer.

"Sure, why not?" she replied, and her words were accompanied by her hand shifting underneath the blankets. "Let's make a good hospital memory."

I squeezed her tighter against me and sucked in a breath as her hand closed in on her intended target.

"We've already done that," I reminded her as I struggled to contain a groan.

"Then let's make another one."

TBC...


	20. Chapter 20

**Logan POV**

* * *

The alarm went off at seven and as I reached over to turn it off, I couldn't keep the groan from escaping.

I hurt like hell.

The day after getting the crap beat out of you is always the worst.

I mean, yeah, it hurts at the time. And you think it hurts pretty badly, too.

But then you go to sleep and when you wake up, you wish the pain was only like it had been in the beginning.

"I won't ask how you feel," Carolyn mumbled as she rolled away from me and out of the bed.

"Good," I replied as I sat up awkwardly.

I realized gratefully that at least I was able to open both eyes this morning.

"Then I won't have to lie," I added.

"You don't lie to me," she said easily as she walked around the end of the bed and came to stand between my legs.

"That's true," I conceded as she gently pushed on the injured side of my face.

And it was true. I didn't lie to her. We'd gone too far beyond that.

But even if I did want to lie to her I'd never get away with it because she always saw through me.

"It looks better this morning."

"Okay, now who's lying?" I asked, smiling in spite of the pain. I put my hands on her waist and pulled her closer to me.

"I didn't say it _felt_ better," she replied as she carefully moved my head so that it rested against her chest. "I said it _looked_ better. You want to take some more Demerol?"

"No, but I'll take some of that anti-inflammatory stuff. And some aspirin," I mumbled.

Truth be told, I didn't want to leave the room. I wanted to lay back down in a drug-induced sleep for the next forty-eight hours.

But we had things to do.

We needed to find Van Miller and connect him to Cabbage. We needed to question the members of Cabbage's gang and find out who was in Garfield Park yesterday.

And of course, there was the matter of Carver. I wanted payback on him so badly I could taste it.

I just hadn't yet decided how best to take him down.

"Why don't you get in the shower, and I'll fix some coffee. The hot water might loosen you up a little."

"I know what'll loosen me up," I said suggestively as I squeezed her tighter.

Of course, I was all talk. There was no way I was in any kind of shape for physical activity.

"You're all bark and no bite, Mike," she laughed. I pulled my head back and raised my eyebrow at her, so she amended her statement. "Okay, so you bite sometimes."

I was glad to see her in a teasing mood.

She had been furious yesterday. I hadn't realized how close beneath the surface she'd been keeping her emotions, because with just that little bit of prodding, everything had come pouring out.

And she was right.

I couldn't close the box just because I wanted to.

But I also didn't want to.

I wanted her to be mad when she felt like it, and not try to control it just to balance me out.

"We're okay, right?" I asked her as she moved away to go fiddle with the coffee pot. She turned back to look at me with a questioning expression.

"Yesterday," I clarified as I slowly got to my feet. "You were pretty pissed. What was it you said to me? Oh yeah, I think it was _fuck you, Mike_. I can't remember the last time someone said that to me."

"Don't be an ass," she shot back, matching my grin with one of her own. "Then I won't have to say it again."

"Well, there's not much chance of that," I replied. I crossed the room to where she stood and I stroked my hand down her back. "So?"

"We're okay," she responded as she turned to hug me. "Of course we're okay. I…I needed to jump that hurdle. I needed you to push me, and you did. So I guess I should've said _thank you_ instead of _fuck you_."

I kissed her quickly and then stepped back and shrugged.

"One's as good as the other," I told her smoothly. I turned to go into the bathroom, but she put her hand on my arm.

"Uh uh," she said playfully. "You missed your chance to shower first. You're too damn slow."

"I'm moving as fast as I can, sweetheart."

"I guess you'll have to make room for me in there then because the coffee's brewing. We have to be upstairs in forty-five minutes."

I wasn't going to argue about having to share my shower. I went in and turned on the water.

"I wonder how long Ross debated over which bed to sleep in?" I called out to her.

"A while," she laughed. "I bet a long while."

"Yeah, I bet he picked wrong, too."

She came in the bathroom a second later, and then we both got into the shower. I stood still under the spray while she worked the soap over me.

I was going to have to remember to be slow more often.

"I was thinking about this case," she said.

"Really?" I asked.

She was pressed flush against me, wrapping her arms around me to wash my back rather than have me turn around.

And yet, she was thinking about the case.

Her hands faltered at my question.

"I was…um…yeah, sorry. I guess now isn't the time."

"I'm teasing you," I told her. "Some of the best ideas come in the shower, even when we're in here together. Talk," I encouraged. "Work it out."

She continued to run her soapy hands over me and I let my eyes fall closed as I waited for her to continue.

I wanted her some kind of bad. If I weren't in such ragged condition, I'd have her pressed up against the wall by now.

But my mind and my body were on two different wavelengths at the moment, so that would have to wait.

"Yoyo was spending a lot of time with Miller," she began. "What if he knew about the drug operation? I mean, we know he was protective of Miller. He kept Derek away from him."

"Was he being protective of Miller or of Derek?" I posed. "Maybe Yoyo didn't want Derek to get sucked into the drug dealing."

"Yoyo didn't deal."

"But he was an addict, right?"

"Well, yeah, I assume so."

"He sold himself for drugs, and didn't share with anyone. Isn't that what your guy from the flophouse said?"

"Uh huh. That's what Derek did, too, although he was willing to trade for sex with Carrie."

"And she declined. But she was willing to go with a stranger when you saw her last night. And she pimped out her friend for drugs. So why did she turn down Derek?"

"Maybe she didn't like that he went both ways. The addict from the house told us Yoyo went both ways, too. Maybe he was just killed for his broad-spectrum orientation."

"Somebody killed him because he did men and women? That's a leap."

"Yeah," she agreed on a sigh. "It is. I'm grasping."

She handed me the soap and I took over. For some reason, running my hands over her caused the pain in my body to subside somewhat, even more so than when she had been touching me.

But we were on a tight time table, and I also knew that if I gave in to my desire that I'd pay for it later.

So I forced myself to focus on the case.

"Derek mentioned that Cabbage did the murder," I told her. "He thought that me and Bobby were part of the gang sent to kill him."

"So Derek wasn't involved with the gang. Otherwise he would've known that you weren't. I wonder if he even knew Cabbage before this happened."

"He knew enough to be scared of him. He was terrified when we caught up to him."

"And for good reason apparently."

"So what's your theory?" I asked her as I traded the soap for shampoo. She was quiet for a minute as I worked the lather into her hair.

"I don't think Miller ordered the hit on Yoyo. Otherwise he wouldn't have been so quick to pick up Derek. He would've been more cautious about who he brought into his life. I think that for some reason, Cabbage went off on him. Some kind of power struggle maybe."

"Between the boss' bitch and his right-hand man?" I asked. "That makes sense. I wonder how Cabbage felt about Miller's penchant for men."

"I think we need to ask Miller."

"Or maybe you were on the right track before. Maybe Yoyo hit on Cabbage and that didn't sit well with his masculine image."

"I'd love to talk to Cabbage, but I doubt we're going to get access to him."

"Don't discount the boss-man," I told her as she leaned under the spray to rinse her hair. "Ross might be able to pull some more strings. I'm sure he didn't fly out here to ride the bench."

"Let's go find out," she replied. "I'm done. You soak for another minute and then we'll go upstairs."

We got to Ross' room on time.

He and I stood in the hallway and drank our coffee while Carolyn threw some clothes in a bag for the Gorens.

"We want to get in to talk to Cabbage," I told him after a minute.

"It won't be a problem," he assured me. "I'll arrange for Goren to talk to him. He's good at that kind of thing, and it'll be something non-threatening for him to do."

Then he carefully looked me up and down before he added, "Maybe you should go with him."

"I'm fine," I said in annoyance.

The constant throb in my head and side had already started to put me in a bad mood.

Not to mention that my hand was still swollen. That guy in the jail cell had a head like a damn rock.

"We need to pay a visit to Miller," I told him. "And I've got a few gang members' names that Carver gave me yesterday. We never got around to visiting them. Can you get the ballistics report?"

"Not without telling him why. How much do we want to divulge?"

"I don't know," I admitted as I rubbed my hand over my face. "I want this whole sordid story to come out. I want all of the details of what Carver was trying to keep hidden to come to light."

"I thought you just wanted to beat the shit out of him," Ross said smartly.

"Well, yeah, there is that," I agreed. "But one time in a Chicago jail cell was enough for me. If you think he wouldn't press charges in a second…"

"I think I'd like to meet this guy. I heard about him, when I first got to MCS, but he was gone by the time I got the chance to work with him."

"You didn't miss much."

"Maybe he just panicked," Ross offered. "He thinks you guys are going to ruin his chances of career advancement."

"You know he went after Alex, right?"

"Went after her?" he asked. "What do you mean?"

"He told her he could get her marriage annulled."

"What?" he shouted, nearly spitting coffee at me.

"Yeah, so see, it's not just me who wants to beat the shit out of him. I'm already in line behind her and Bobby both."

"Okay, let's go," Carolyn said as she came out of the room.

"Got everything?" I asked her as I took the bag from her hand.

Hey, I'm a chivalrous guy. It's not that I don't think she _can_ carry it, but just that she shouldn't _have_ to.

"So we need to work on the perfect plan to take Carver down," Ross stated firmly as we walked toward the elevator.

Carolyn and I both stared at him, surprised by his vehemence.

"Right?" he added. "I mean, we're not going to let him get away with this, are we?"

"Not on your life," I replied.

We took the El this time to save on cab fare and arrived at the hospital just as Goren's doctor was going over his discharge instructions. I handed the bag to Alex and then the three of us waited out in the hall while the doctor finished up.

"How's your hand today?" Dr. Carter asked me as he came out of the room. "They'll be out in a minute," he added with a nod behind him.

"It's fine," I said, my standard reply. I'd let him take an x-ray of that and of my face last night, so I knew that nothing was broken.

He held out his hand and looked at me expectantly.

"Don't you ever go home?" I asked him with mock irritation.

"We had two docs call in sick today. I'm covering," he told me, and then he snapped his fingers and opened his hand to me again.

I sighed and set my hand on his for inspection.

"The swelling has gone down some. Did you take the pills?"

"I took the Naproxen," I told him. "The Demerol will have to wait until tonight. That stuff knocked me out."

"Fair enough. Ice it any time you get a break, okay?"

He got out his pen light and looked in both of my eyes.

"Nice ruptured vessel in the right eye," he remarked. "And I see you can get the left one open this morning. That's good."

"I try," I said dryly.

At last, I was saved by the emergence of the Gorens.

And I was suddenly, surprisingly choked up, moved by the sight of him once again on his feet.

Yesterday I'd been covered in his blood and today he was up and around. He did have his right arm secured against his body, but still...the alternate outcome was just too frightening.

"You look a hell of a lot better than yesterday," I told him gruffly as I battled my emotions.

"I wish I could say the same thing about you," he replied.

"It's good to see you on your feet, Bobby," Carolyn said, her voice not much stronger than mine.

"He's on light duty," Dr. Carter spoke up. "Very light duty."

"I got it, Doc," Goren replied.

"And let your wife check the bandage for bleeding. We need to know immediately if those sutures don't hold."

Alex nodded at the doctor, and the five of us made our way toward the exit.

"Come back before you leave town," the doctor called out to us. "I'll check it one more time, just to be sure."

"We'll be back," Alex assured him.

Considering our plans for the day, I hoped like hell it was only for a check-up.

TBC...


	21. Chapter 21

**Alex POV**

* * *

Ross' friend offered us a conference room to use as a command center, so when we left the hospital, we'd headed straight for the 11th district.

I had a feeling that Captain Coulter's hospitality had more to do with wanting to keep an eye on us rather than just being nice, but I wasn't going to argue.

And he did agree to let Bobby meet up with Cabbage at some point during the day, so he was accommodating our requests.

Of course, it could also be that he was afraid that Mike might sue the department.

Suspension was a light sentence for that officer who'd told the prisoners that Mike was a cop, and if I ever ran into that guy, I was going to let him know exactly what I thought of him.

And I wouldn't be using words.

We'd gotten Bobby set up in the conference room at the police station, and then we'd split up.

Mike and Carolyn were headed to the streets in an effort to track down some of the gang members.

Bobby was staying behind to wait on his interview with Cabbage. In the mean time, he was working on research, and Mike had gotten Reggie to agree to do a little legwork for him.

It hadn't taken much convincing. Reggie had taken one look at Mike when we walked into the squad room, and he'd offered up his services. He was without a partner for the time being anyway, and he knew his captain was on board with our renegade operation.

Ross and I were in a borrowed car on our way to Waukegan.

It was Captain Coulter's personal vehicle, and I had to wonder what type of favor he owed Ross. He was letting us use his own car to go talk to a suspected drug trafficker.

And all we'd had to do was promise to hand him over after we finished with him.

Van Miller lived in a lake front home an hour north of Chicago. I had to guess that male prostitutes were a rare commodity in Waukegan, which would explain why Miller had to drive into the city for his exploits.

It started out as an awkward drive, because quite frankly, Ross and I didn't normally have much one-on-one time.

And I was still replaying my conversation with Bobby in my head, the one we'd had just before I left the station.

"_Be careful. Don't trust Ross to have your back," _he'd told me. We had slipped out of the conference room and were alone in the hall.

"_Don't trust him?"_

"_To have your back," _he clarified_. "Ross has been out of the field for awhile. And I don't know how effective he is without his weapon."_

"_You know how effective I am without my weapon," _I reminded him_._

"_I know. That's why I'm being so calm," _he said with a smile._ "But I am worried. It was hard enough seeing you go with Carolyn last night, and I know what she can do."_

"_I'll be fine," _I told him._ "Miller's not our killer. We just need information from him."_

"_Killer or not, he's a drug trafficker. If he feels his business is threatened, or that he's backed into a corner, he'll come out with guns blazing."_

"_I know. I'll be careful."_

I'd hugged him then, gently so as not to shift his arm too much.

"_I'm sorry things last night were so…one sided," _he whispered into my hair as he pressed kisses against the top of my head._ "I'll make it up to you tonight."_

"_There's no making up to do," _I countered_. "You get Cabbage to crack, and I'll take care of Miller. Then we can crucify Carver and get out of this city, okay?"_

He nodded his assent, but kept his left arm tightly around me to keep me close. I could tell that he was reluctant to let me go.

"_Are you okay?" _I added_. "Does your arm hurt too much?"_

"_I'm fine. I just…I like it better when we work together," _he admitted, and then he finally stepped back from me.

"_Me, too," _I told him with a smile_. "I'll be back in a few hours and we'll blow this thing wide open, okay?"_

"_Okay."_

He'd still been apprehensive about me leaving.

And maybe I would've been too, if it were the other way around.

As it was, I was happy that he was safely ensconced inside a police station where I didn't have to worry about him. Not more than usual anyway.

I made a mental note to send him regular text messages to keep his over-active imagination from running off the rails, and then I glanced over at Ross.

It was going to be a long drive if we didn't make conversation.

"So," I began hesitantly. "Your new detectives are starting today, huh?"

"They are, yes," he answered.

I was afraid he was going to stop there. I didn't want to have to work at this conversation. I didn't want him to just give me yes or no answers.

"I'm not sure what to think of them," he added. "They look okay on paper, I guess."

"No one that you've met before?" I asked, grateful that he seemed willing to talk.

"Surprisingly, no. I've heard of one of them. Detective Bernard from the 2-7. He's got a good reputation."

"I know him. He is good," I agreed. "I didn't realize he'd put in for a transfer."

"He didn't. His captain recommended him for the position, and I guess he decided to give it a shot. The other one is a transplant from D.C."

We drove a few miles in quiet, that topic seemingly having run its course.

"So, um…thank you for coming out here," I said. "I don't know how long Logan would've stayed in jail if you hadn't gotten involved."

"He'd probably be in a hospital right now," he replied with a nod. "Although Tom said that Logan sent one of the other guys to the ER. And it was four on one."

He said it like he was surprised and impressed with Logan's ability to hold his own.

And while I was impressed, I wasn't surprised.

I'd gone a few rounds with Logan at the gym from time to time. He wasn't a finesse fighter, but he got the job done. Well.

"Logan knows how to fight," I said simply. I wasn't going to elaborate further.

I knew the reason why Mike was so good at it. Carolyn knew. And I had a good feeling that Bobby knew.

But that was probably about it.

"Apparently," Ross replied.

Another mile passed.

"Goren looked good this morning," he said. "He was feeling okay?"

"Yeah, it seems to be healing nicely. The artery is a concern, but as long as the sutures hold until it can heal itself then he should be fine. I'm glad he's going to be fairly inactive today."

"I'm sure that's tough."

"What's tough?"

"Keeping him inactive."

I chuckled a moment, remembering how much frustration Ross used to feel for Bobby's inability to stand still.

"It…is, yeah," I agreed.

"What…um…what…"

Ross rarely got tongue-tied so I could only guess that he was just hesitant to ask me something, as opposed to having trouble saying it.

"It's a long drive. Ask away," I offered. "Just know that I don't have to answer."

It was surreal having a normal conversation with him, but at the same time, I wanted to. I doubted he would ever be a close friend, but I could picture him as some day being a friend.

I really liked Liz a lot, and she was a good confidante, so I needed to be open to Ross as well.

"Logan told me that Carver offered to annul your marriage."

That wasn't what I had been expecting, but I went with it.

"Seems that he thought I'd make a good political wife," I said sarcastically.

"I can see that."

"What?"

"I mean, not that he should have…I mean, it's just that…I can see why he would…um…think that," he said quickly.

Then he sighed heavily, and I decided to cut him a little slack.

This was probably awkward for him, too, so I waited and let him gather his thoughts.

"I don't mean that he should've suggested breaking up your marriage," he clarified. He seemed to have relaxed slightly since I didn't jump on his comment. "Only that the nature of politics dictates having every aspect covered. Finding a wife would be something he would consider as a detail that needed to be handled. You're a competent, dependable woman with an exemplary record as a detective…you would've passed the media muster."

"And see, here I thought that I was just another pretty face," I said drolly.

"Eames…I mean…"

"Alex," I supplied. I had the man completely flustered despite my efforts to do the opposite.

"I'm sorry. I have trouble breaking out of my routine," he admitted.

But then he chuckled, and I was glad to hear it.

"Can we start this conversation again?" he asked me. I shrugged my agreement and so then he said, "What I really want to know is what you said to him after he made his proposition."

So then I told Ross about the dinner date with me, Bobby, and Carver.

"That man has a lot of nerve," he said when I finished. He shook his head in disgust and then was quiet for a minute before asking, "And Goren speaks Italian?"

"Um...yeah. Italian, German, some Spanish, a little Korean..." I listed, although it was the thought of the Italian that put a smile on my face.

Because he rarely spoke Italian anywhere these days except in the bed.

_Or in the shower. Or the kitchen_.

I could hear it perfectly in my head, his deep rumbling voice whispering _ti desidero disperatamente._

"You two are really happy, aren't you?" he asked, pulling me from thoughts.

_You shouldn't be having those thoughts anyway while you're in the car with Ross_, I chastised myself.

"You have to ask?"

"I'm just…it's a…um…"

"You want to know why we're together," I supplied.

It was a no-brainer to figure out what path his mind was traveling.

And surely it mystified him that his former detectives were now married, especially when at a glance, we seemed to be polar opposites.

"I have to admit to being curious. But more in what it is that you see in him."

"Well, for starters, he doesn't love me for what I can do for his career," I said smartly in reference to Carver's obnoxious offer. "He loves me in spite of what I did to it. He was willing to give up everything."

"So were you. In fact, it hurt you more than him," he countered.

"You tell me what I see in him," I said suddenly.

I wanted to hear what he would come up with. And I wanted him to think about it. If I just told him the answer then it wouldn't mean as much as it would if he came up with it on his own.

"You want me to tell you," he reiterated.

"Sure. We've still got forty-five minutes to go. That should give you plenty of time to guess wrong," I told him with a smile.

"I like Goren," he said defensively. "I know you think that I don't, but…"

"I know you do," I interrupted. "You wouldn't have come out here otherwise. And I appreciate it, I really do. I just think that maybe you can't see his attributes because he so often irritated you with his flaws."

"So you're admitting he has flaws?" he asked wryly.

"Well, one or two anyway."

"He is…driven," he began. I was surprised that was the first characteristic he came up with, but I was interested to hear the rest so I didn't interrupt. "And dedicated. Intelligent. Loyal."

He paused, and I knew he was looking at me for affirmation, so I schooled my features.

"You know I had a dog like that once," I dead-panned.

"I'm _trying_," he insisted, and he was. I appreciated that he was playing along.

He _wanted _to know us better.

"You're thinking in facts. There's more emotion involved," I told him, letting him off the hook. "Bobby is the most selfless, caring, _giving_ person I have ever met. He sets a high standard for himself, and he works hard to live up to his own expectations. He has more honesty and integrity than anyone I've ever known. He's confident without being arrogant and intellectual without acting superior..."

I stopped suddenly when I realized that I'd gotten a little carried away. Of course, everything I'd said was true, but I hadn't meant to go on and on like that.

Ross was quiet, so we drove several more miles in silence.

"I can see that," he said at last.

"Really?"

"I…um…yeah."

I waited for him to say more, but he didn't. So I decided that it was my turn.

"So what is it that Liz sees in you?"

"I…don't you mean that the other way around?" he asked.

"No. I know what you see in her," I retorted. "I think she's great. She's smart, honest, funny…"

"And I'm not?"

"I didn't say that," I replied hesitantly, because maybe that was _exactly_ what I was saying.

He laughed good-naturedly.

"Um…what does she see in me? I honestly have no idea. I'm just glad it's something."

I barked out a laugh and shook my head.

"What's so funny? That's kind of what you expected, isn't it? That maybe I drugged her up or brainwashed her to get her to marry me?"

"I'm laughing because your response is exactly what Bobby's would've been if asked the same question. I have a feeling you two are a lot more alike than you think."

We moved on to safer topics after that, and before long, we arrived on Sea Horse Drive at the home of Van Miller.

"Black Benz in the driveway," Ross remarked as we eased past the location.

It was a nice neighborhood, but a little too quiet for my liking. I would've loved to have my weapon with me.

"How do you want to play this?" he asked me as we climbed out of the car. I'd parked a couple of houses away just to give us the element of surprise.

Ross' question nearly had me stopping in my tracks, but I covered my surprise at his willingness to defer to me.

Except then I realized that my badge-stealing secret was going to come out.

"I…was going to…"

"Flash your badge and let him assume you're local?" he asked.

"Look, Captain…"

"I knew you took it," he told me. "Did you think I was going to report you?"

I wasn't sure what to say to that. _Had I thought that he would_?

"Don't show it to me in New York, okay?" he told me as we went up the sidewalk. "What happens in Chicago, stays in Chicago."

TBC...


	22. Chapter 22

**Ross POV**

* * *

I have a lot of respect for Alex.

And I'm going to do my best to practice calling her that in my head so that maybe one of these days I can start saying it out loud.

_Alex._

Anyway, I have a tremendous amount of respect for her.

Because there she was, strolling up the front walk of a drug czar's house, unarmed, and yet she was steady. She was better than steady.

She was completely at ease and in her element.

It made me want to throw Bernard's and D.C. transplant's files in the shredder and get down on my hands and knees to get the Gorens back.

"You good?" she asked me over her shoulder as we approached the steps.

"Yeah," I confirmed. I was pleased that my voice came out sounding calm.

Because the truth was that I was getting a little bit of a rush. My adrenaline was pumping. It felt like the old days when I used to do this sort of thing on a regular basis.

Now I only did it on occasion, and even then I had a vest and a nice, heavy .45.

Alex climbed the steps in front of me and I noticed that her hand made an instinctive pass over her right hip.

She was missing her gun.

But she didn't hesitate. Instead, she got to the top step and went straight for the front door. She knocked hard.

"Mr. Miller! Open up!"

The more authority that you _act_ like you have, the more authority someone will _think_ you have.

It wasn't about reality. It was about perception.

And she pulled it off perfectly.

"Mr. Miller!" she yelled again with another three solid thumps on the door.

I stood behind her and slightly to her right. I kept some room between us for maneuvering in case the situation got hairy.

Cold calls on a suspected criminal's house were always a crap shoot. It could be nothing, or it could really be something.

I heard rustling in the house, and she glanced briefly over her shoulder at me. I gave her a nod and she took one step back in anticipation of him opening the door.

But he was not even close to what I'd expected.

There stood a late-fifties, balding, pot-bellied man in a velour jogging suit.

Alex cast a swift glance at me, obviously as dumbfounded as I was, but then she turned back to him.

"Alex Goren," she introduced smoothly while she gave a quick flash of her shield. She tucked her badge back into her jacket pocket and then tilted her head in my direction. "That's Captain Ross."

"Police?" he questioned. He looked like a timid cartoon mouse. It was almost comical.

"Are you Van Miller?" she asked him.

"Yes I am," the man stated.

"Are you the _only_ Van Miller?"

And I knew what she was thinking. _Surely there was a son_.

"Yes."

"Does anyone else drive your car? The black Mercedes-Benz?"

"No, it's just me."

"May we come in? We'd like to ask you a few questions."

The confused Mr. Miller stepped back and opened his door, allowing us entry.

I was amazed that he hadn't asked for further identification, but I decided that must be small town mentality.

He wanted to trust us, and he wanted to believe that if we said we were the police, then we were the police.

Of course, we _were_. Well, I was.

Just not here.

We followed him down a short hallway and into his living room. The house was impressive, and surely cost a bundle considering its proximity to the lake.

"What do you do, Mr. Miller?" I began.

I wondered idly how the original Goren would handle this.

I noticed that Alex took a seat in a hard-backed chair opposite the sofa on which Mr. Miller sat.

I decided to wander around in an attempt to keep the guy off balance. That seemed like a Goren thing to do.

I headed for the entertainment center and began touching various knickknacks.

"You mean, my job?" he asked uncertainly.

_Cleary not a rocket scientist_.

"Yes."

"I'm in pharmaceutical sales," he told us.

_Interesting career choice for a suspected drug trafficker_.

I caught Alex's eye and she took over.

"Sir, where were you yesterday?"

"All day?"

"Start from the beginning."

"I…um…I went to church. And then I um…went to lunch."

"Where did you have lunch?"

"At um…here. I had lunch at home."

Alex raised an eyebrow at me and then looked back at him.

"So when you say you _went_ to lunch, you mean you came home."

"Right."

"And then what?"

"I was here."

"All day?"

"Right."

"I don't think so," she told him. She leaned forward in her chair and gave him a penetrating stare.

"You don't?"

He was starting to sweat now.

"No. I think that you drove into Chicago."

"Chicago? No, huh uh."

"Yeah see, let me tell you what I think happened. You went down there looking for action. But Yoyo's dead and the Butcher's dead, so you weren't sure who to pick up. Then a girl on the street set you up with Lil' Mojo. Does that sound about right?"

Miller had gone pale, and he was shaking his head continuously.

"No, I didn't go to Chicago. I swear! I was here all day!"

"Okay, so maybe you were here. But where was your car?" I asked him.

He shifted his gaze from Alex to me, and I watched in amazement as sweat literally dripped off his forehead.

This guy was a mess.

No way was he a drug kingpin.

"My car? My…my…my…Mercedes?"

"Do you have another car?" Alex asked him smartly.

"No. No just that one."

"Then let's go with that one. Where was your Mercedes?"

Just then, three things happened.

My sixth sense started to kick in and Alex turned and caught my eye, her expression showing concern.

She was feeling the off-ness of the moment, too, and I trusted her instincts even more than my own.

Then Alex's phone started buzzing.

And then we heard a voice as another man entered the room.

"Big fuckin' mistake, coming here."

**

* * *

**

Carolyn POV

I was getting tired of walking the streets of Cabrini Green.

I knew I'd spent too much time here when the regulars were making eye contact and giving me nods of acknowledgement.

Mike got more than a few long glances, likely due to his colorful complexion, but for the most part people were cooperative.

We had names of some of the gang members, but not their street names, so I wasn't sure how much good our list was going to do us.

"Do you know Paul Kramer?" I asked one sober-looking individual.

"Little Paulie?"

I glanced at Mike and he shrugged.

"Um…maybe," I replied.

"He's got a nine-to-fiver down at the Shell," the guy told me.

"Maybe not Little Paulie then," Mike spoke up. "This guy hangs with Cabbage."

"Cabbage? Shit, I don't know a damn thing," he said quickly as he walked away.

And so went our morning.

If we didn't mention Cabbage, we got false leads.

If we did, we got blanket fear.

"Want to go over to Garfield Park?" Mike asked in frustration.

It was nearly noon already and we still had nothing.

"I bet the gang doesn't hang there," I argued. "Derek went there to hide. He wouldn't have gone if he thought that they'd be there."

"Maybe we can find someone there who saw something," he suggested.

"The police would've combed the area."

"Yeah, well, we're not the police," he replied in annoyance. "They might be more willing to talk to us."

"Okay. Yeah, you're right. It's worth a shot."

"You don't have to agree with me just to agree with me," he muttered.

I recognized that he was sore and grouchy, so I didn't take his bait. We'd been bickering enough lately.

What we needed was some alone time when he wasn't passed out cold on Demerol.

"Mike," I said softly as I put my hand on his arm. "I want to find them, too, okay?"

"I know," he sighed. "I'm just…"

"Irritable?" I offered with a smile.

"Something like that. You got any suggestions on how to make me less…irritable?"

"I can think of a few," I told him as I let my eyes wander over him.

He was a beat-up mess, but he was still sexy. He still got my pulse racing just from the heat of his stare.

"But we'd better find these guys first," I added. "Business before pleasure, right?"

"If you say so, sweetheart."

"Why don't you check in with Goren?" I suggested. "We can see if he's got anything for us and then head over to the park."

Bobby still had my phone, so I was without and it was driving me crazy. I was too used to being connected.

Mike pulled out his phone while I dug into my pocket and grabbed four more aspirin and a naproxen and held out the pills in my hand.

He took them from me and popped them into his mouth while he waited for Bobby to answer the phone.

"Hey, yo, my bitch!"

"Oh my God," I mumbled, as Mike swiftly looked at me and then over my shoulder to where Carrie was unquestionably heading towards us.

"You let her call you _her bitch_?" he asked me, his grin spreading quickly.

"I just…I'm trying to be easy to get along with," I replied on a sigh.

"Since when?" he teased as I turned around.

"Hey, Goren!" I heard him say into the phone as I walked away from him. I was glad that he'd reached him, but then he added, "Call me back, okay?"

_It must have gone to voice mail._

"How's it going Carrie?" I asked her as I checked out her eyes. She was on the shit, but she didn't look as bad as she had last night.

"I just wanted to tell you that Vanilla Ice came back last night."

"He did?"

"Yeah, he brought Lil' Mojo back and he was all fucked up."

"Like high?" I asked.

"No, like _fucked up_. He was bleeding and shit and his eye was swollen…damn, he kinda looked like your man over there," she said as she pointed at Mike.

"So the rich guy worked him over?"

"I don't know. He looked too powder puff for that shit, ya know?"

"You think it was somebody else? Did you see anyone else with him?"

"I saw all kinda shit," she told me in a hushed voice. "The wannabe was all like squealin' up to the sidewalk and shit, and then the back door just come open and Lil' Mojo fell outta the car, and then I heard some dude say _that's for stealin' our shit, bitch_ and then the door closed and the car pulled off but then it stopped again up the street and backed up to where I was standing and the window came down in the front and I looked inside and the dude whipped it out. Can you believe that shit?"

"Whipped it out?"

I had no idea if she meant he'd exposed himself or pulled a gun on her. I wasn't really sure which one to hope for.

"He drew his nine, right? All up in my face with that shit? And he said to keep my damn mouth shut."

"About Lil' Mojo?"

"I don't know, bitch! I was straight up trippin'! You ever had a gun in your face?"

_Once or twice_…

"Carrie, did you see anyone else in the car? Was it just Vanilla Ice that had the gun?"

"That poser had the only piece I saw, but there was someone else in the back. No way Lil' Mojo got that door open all by himself."

"Where's Lil' Mojo now?"

"He got the fuck out, that's what he do. He said the CG was too hard. Shit, like we don't know that."

"So the rich guy pointed the gun at you," I reminded her, trying to get us back on track. "Did he say anything else?"

"Yeah, I told him he better watch his back 'cause the cops was on his ass!"

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. _Shit._

"You told him we'd been asking about him?"

"Damn straight! I wanted that fucker to know that the cops know me! Otherwise they think I'm just some no-name bitch they can smoke for free! Shit, I can't let them think they skate on no murder. I'm _some_body, bitch!"

"So what did he do after you said that?"

"He tried to be all cool and shit sayin' that he had somethin' for the cops and that he just _hoped_ they try to find him…"

And then it hit me what else she'd said.

"You said he drew a nine. Like a nine millimeter, or just a gun?"

"It was a big scary looking gun, okay? With holes in the barrel and shit."

My heart sank. I turned and ran back toward Mike.

"Call Alex, now!" I yelled.

"What?" he asked, although he pulled the phone from his pocket and flipped it open.

"Miller knows we're looking for him, and he's got a nine!"

"Shit," he muttered as he dialed the right number. "Shit, shit…"

He put the phone back to his ear.

"Come on, Alex…pick up. Shit! I got her voice mail."

"Try Bobby again," I told him and then the two of us took off running towards the El station.

It was déjà vu all over again.

TBC...

Monday :)


	23. Chapter 23

**Bobby POV**

* * *

I hated being left behind.

It gave me flashbacks to my youth when my dad would go off somewhere and take Frank with him...my mom would be home, but she had her days when she wasn't _there_.

She'd tell me to leave her alone and as long as I stayed out of the way, then the day would usually pass uneventful.

Usually.

And then there were those other days…

But now here I was again, doing my best to stay out of the way.

_Not true, Goren_, I argued with myself.

Now was not the time for self-pity. Just because Alex was off with Ross tracking down a drug czar, that didn't mean I was allowed to feel sorry for myself.

_And Alex would kick me right in the ass for doing it, too_.

I smiled at the thought of her and got busy. I had things to do.

I had to get Cabbage to come clean.

We hadn't come to Chicago to break up a whole drug ring, but it sure as hell looked like that was what we were going to do.

Because if that's what needed to happen so that we could get justice for Derek, then so be it.

And if Carver happened to get politically ruined in the process, well...that would just be the icing on the cake.

_He'd tried to steal my wife_.

Of all of the despicable things he'd done over the past two days, that was the one I most wanted to break his nose over.

_Break his nose_. Huh.

More like I wanted to break every damn bone in his body.

He wanted _my Alex_? Not fucking likely.

I knew that I was getting worked up just thinking about the play he'd made for her at dinner the other night, but that was okay.

A little adrenaline was good for me.

It helped my brain work better.

"Hey, Goren," Reggie said as he came into the conference room. "I got a copy of that file you were asking about."

The Narcotics file on Caleb "Cabbage" Freeman. The notes in the file should contain known associates, including their street names.

"You got me my own copy?" I asked him in surprise as he held out a file. Reggie shrugged noncommittally, but didn't say anything.

I hoped he wasn't getting himself into trouble over this, but I was grateful.

"Great, thanks," I said as I accepted the file.

Reggie left me alone, so I set the file down and began reorganizing the papers that I had strewn about the table.

It was a pain in the ass to work one-handed, but I was getting it done.

My phone, or rather Carolyn's phone, buzzed so I pulled it out.

A text from Alex.

_**Halfway there. Interesting chat with Ross. So, what are you wearing?**_

I laughed out loud and quickly typed a response.

_**Nothing. I find I think better in the buff. You?**_

And then I deleted the sent and received messages because the last thing I needed was for Carolyn to see them.

Mike never did give me my cell phone back and I hadn't pressed him on the issue. I wasn't sure if anyone could ever completely get blood out from between the cracks on a keypad.

I would just get a new one when we got home.

"Anything else I can get you?"

I'd been so absorbed in my thoughts that I hadn't even heard Reggie return.

"No, thanks. I know you're busy. I appreciate your help."

"Well, I feel bad about what happened," he admitted.

It looked as though Logan had won him over. He did that more often than he realized with his straight-forward approach and his altruistic attitude.

"Cal's not usually like that," Reggie continued. "I think he just wanted to impress Mr. Carver."

"He may have hooked his wagon to the wrong horse," I mumbled as I looked through the file.

I could think what I would about Chicago's beat cops, but their Narcotics department really had their act together. The documentation in this file was detailed and well-thought out.

_Now we're getting somewhere_.

"So, you're not interested in the ballistics report?" he asked me.

I whipped my head up to look at Reggie as he still stood tentatively in the doorway.

He had a printout in his hand.

"You got the ballistics report?" I asked in amazement.

"Coulter's got two detectives assigned to Derek Carver's murder. I…um…may have seen the…um…report on the…um…fax machine and made a…um…copy before I delivered it."

"Reggie, if you get caught…"

"As long as the word doesn't get out, I'll be fine. And I'm not going to say anything," he assured me. "Are you?"

"No."

He crossed the room and put the report on the table in front of me.

"Looks like the shooter used a nine millimeter, likely a Tec-9. The slugs matched up in the system to another unsolved murder. Witnesses identified the weapon in that case but wouldn't finger the shooter." he told me.

"So not the same gun that was used to kill Yoyo?" I asked him. We'd already heard that he'd been killed with a .380, but the weapon hadn't been found when Cabbage was arrested.

"Nope," he said, and by his tone, I had a feeling his information was going to be enlightening.

"So who's the other body on this gun?"

"Gang banger named Mickey VanderWerker. They called him the Mouse."

"Imagine that," I murmured as I flipped through the Narcotics file. "Yeah, here it is," I said, tapping the sheet in front of me. "So he was in Cabbage's gang?"

"Looks like it."

"That doesn't make sense. Cabbage's gang supposedly killed Derek, but they also killed one of their own with the same weapon?"

Reggie didn't have an answer for me, so we both pondered the latest information for a minute.

While I was thinking, I pulled out the phone and sent a text to Logan and Alex to let them know about the Tec-9.

I sent the message and put the phone back on the table when suddenly Reggie took two quick steps back from the table and looked at the door.

A second later, Coulter peeked his head into the room. I casually slid the ballistics report to the bottom of the stack of papers.

"I got your interview with Caleb Freeman set up. He'll be ready in an hour, okay?"

"Great, thanks Captain," I replied, my mind still on the ballistics.

I had expected that Derek was killed with a banger's gun but not with a gun that had killed a banger.

Had the Mouse been an informant?

Had he crossed the gang somehow and so they'd iced him to send a message?

I looked up and saw that Coulter was still lingering in the doorway.

"You got something?" he asked me when he had my attention.

"No sir."

"Danny said you guys would keep me informed."

"I'm still putting pieces together. I'll update you if I get anything."

He glanced briefly at Reggie and then gave me a nod and left the room.

"He's a good guy?" I asked Reggie as I pulled the report back out.

"You think he'd be doing all that he's doing if he weren't?"

"Good point. What are my chances of getting the file on the Mouse? The information in the Narcotics file centers around Cabbage, so the known associates are only mentioned peripherally."

"I'll see what I can do."

I was once again alone in the room. I had an hour to come up with my plan of attack on Cabbage.

At the very least, I needed him to lay out the drug business for me, and I had to know why Yoyo had been killed.

If I had those answers, I could figure out the rest.

Thirty minutes later, I got a text from Alex.

_**We're here. I'll text when we're done**_.

I fought back my anxiety that she was in the field without me and focused on the case at hand.

Twenty-five minutes after that, Reggie came back in the room.

"I'm sorry it took me so long," he told me, and he sounded winded. "I had to do some wheelin' and dealin' to get this."

"Mickey's file?" I asked hopefully.

"I got the investigation file, the ME's report, everything."

He looked pretty pleased with himself, and I had to admit, I was pretty damn pleased with him, too.

I stood up from the table and quickly flipped through the new information. There was even a crime scene photo which was a close-up of the kill shot.

Or rather, _shots_. Two, to the head. Just like Derek.

I'd assumed that the head shots were coincidental since I'd also been shot in the process. But maybe they were a message.

_But what the hell was the message_? _And why had a banger received the same one?_

"I need to go," I told Reggie. "Is Cabbage's lawyer in there with him?"

"No, he agreed to talk to you without his lawyer since you're not the police. I'll be in the observation room to make sure he doesn't try anything, but it'll just be me," he told me meaningfully.

_Yeah, right, like I was going to be able to play hardball with the guy_. I hadn't even been able to dress myself this morning.

"Okay. Let's go."

I left Reggie in the hall. He went into one room while I went into the room next door.

I walked in and closed the door behind me.

And I had to admit that I felt a little out of sorts.

I wasn't in my suit.

I didn't have my binder.

And I didn't have Alex.

"What the hell do you want with me, pretty boy?"

I'd seen the police snapshot of Caleb Freeman, but he looked different in person.

At the moment, he was leaned back in his chair with one foot propped up on the table and his cuffed hands behind his head.

Without a word, I walked over to him and shoved his feet off the table.

"Hey, yo, what the fuck?" he said, standing up to face me.

It didn't seem to matter to him that he was cuffed.

And even though he hadn't seemed to notice that one sleeve of my jacket was empty, rendering me at a great disadvantage, he knew I wasn't a cop, so he wasn't intimidated by me.

He stepped closer and got right in my face. I hadn't expected him to be so confrontational.

I held my hand out toward the window to let Reggie know to stay put. If I had to get rescued from this guy while he was handcuffed, then I'd never get him to talk.

"I don't know who you had to fuck to get this little powwow, but you got screwed in more ways than one, cause I don't have to say _shit_ to you. Come in here with your punk ass…"

He stepped into me and used his chest to bump me. The move itself was enough to piss me off, but the pain that shot through my arm at the contact had me livid.

I realized belatedly that I'd started this thing off on the wrong foot.

I really needed to get back into control.

But it looked like my usual intellectual traps weren't going to work at the moment. I needed him to be afraid of me physically.

Which was tough when I only had one arm, especially when I was trying to keep that fact hidden.

I couldn't use my usual theatrics.

"You probably got a whole slew of pansy-ass bitches watching through the window," he continued. "Well, mother fuckers, watch me kick this guy's…"

While he was talking, he turned his head toward the window, so I took advantage of the opportunity.

"You're right, I'm not a cop," I interrupted, and using my left hand, I shoved him hard in his chest.

He took a step backwards, but I kept moving in on him and now I had him stumbling.

"You know why that sucks for you?" I continued in a taunting voice I'd picked up from Logan. "Because that means I don't have to follow the rules. I can beat the shit out of you and no one's going to care. No one's watching through that window. No one's going to come to your rescue when you start calling for your mama. So right now, I think you need to sit down and shut up!"

And he sat. Immediately. It almost threw me for a loop at how quickly he plopped his butt into that chair.

"Tell me who killed the Butcher," I said firmly.

"Fuck you, man."

But his voice wasn't as firm as it had been. He'd lost his bravado.

"I know it's the same guy who killed the Mouse."

I watched his face as he warred with emotion. He'd been close to the Mouse.

"Don't be talking about Mouse, man. He was my _brother_."

Not literally, of course, but oddly enough, I could relate.

"Don't you want payback? Don't you want to get the guy who killed your brother?"

"I already got me some payback," he replied with a grin.

My mind scrambled to make sense of that fact.

"So you know who killed the Mouse?"

"Uh huh."

"And you got payback."

"That's right. You got a hearing problem or something?"

He was trying to be a smartass, but yet he stayed firmly in his seat and answered my questions, so I knew it was all for show.

"Yo, why you care about the Butcher anyway?" he asked me. "He was just a druggie."

"He was somebody's brother, too."

"He was a little punk-ass bitch who got what he deserved."

"Did you order the hit?"

"Didn't have to," he said smugly.

"You got somebody watching your back?"

"Yeah," he said proudly. Then he looked me up and down carefully. "Do you?"

"Who'd you get as payback?" I asked again, ignoring his question. And then it hit me. "Yoyo? Was Yoyo payback?"

Cabbage smiled and leaned back in his chair.

"I don't know what you talking about, fool. Yoyo pulled a gun on me. I was only defending myself."

My mind was racing as things started falling into place.

And what I came up with sent a jolt of fear through me.

"Was it Miller? Did he kill the Butcher? Did he kill the Mouse?"

Cabbage remained silent, but his expression told me what I needed to know.

_Shit._

I hurried out of the interrogation room and ran back to the conference room. I'd left the phone on the table, so I quickly picked it up.

I had a missed call from Mike, but nothing from Alex.

Damn it!

I quickly dialed her number, but it went straight to voice mail.

"Hey, Goren! What's going on?" Reggie asked me as he came running into the room.

"It's Miller. He's the shooter. And Alex is up there, unarmed…"

"Come on. We'll take my squad car, and I can call ahead to Waukegan PD."

Reggie and I raced through the squad room and down to the parking lot.

I kept redialing Alex's number, but it only went to voice mail. I didn't know Ross' number, and Carolyn didn't have it in her phone, so I couldn't try his cell.

I had a bad feeling about this. A really bad feeling.

She was up there alone. With Ross, but alone. No weapon, she wasn't answering her phone, and I was an hour away.

The phone in my hand rang suddenly when I was in between dialing.

"Yeah?" I answered hurriedly.

"Goren, it's Logan. We think it might be Miller!"

"I know! I can't get Alex on the phone. Where are you?"

"We're on the El heading your way. The next stop is…California-Green."

"Get off," I told him, and then I pulled the phone away as Reggie started up the engine. "California-Green…it's close, right?"

"Yeah."

"Go there." I put the phone back to my ear. "Get off and we'll pick you up. We'll be there in a minute."

I hung up the phone and my heart was pounding. So was my head.

_How did I miss that? Why hadn't I seen that Miller was the killer?_

Reggie had the lights and sirens on and in no time, he was pulling over in front of the El station.

The timing was perfect, because in only a few seconds, I saw Mike and Carolyn running toward the car. They quickly climbed in the backseat.

"Go, go, go!" Mike yelled even before the door was shut. "Did you call ahead?"

"Yeah," Reggie told him. "Waukegan PD's going out there now."

"How long?"

"Normally an hour. I can do it in about thirty-five minutes at this rate."

"Still can't get her?" Carolyn asked me.

"No," I said as I looked down at the phone in my hand.

And then I saw something else.

Blood. On my left hand.

And I wasn't hurt there, so I knew where it had come from.

Without saying a word, I pulled my jacket away from the sling that was keeping my arm against my chest. A dark red stain had spread through the fabric of my button down shirt and also through the canvass of the sling.

I'd ruptured the sutures.

TBC...


	24. Chapter 24

**Alex POV**

* * *

I'd had just about all I could take from Van Miller. We were barking up the wrong tree here.

Except for the car.

And the San Diego conviction.

That's what was throwing me. I had a hard time believing that this guy had done time in a California prison for drug dealing. Or anything else for that matter.

There hadn't been a photo to go along with the online article Bobby had found.

Could there really be two Van Millers, both of whom drove black Mercedes with DSL in the plates?

I looked at Ross as he picked up yet another Hummel off of the mantel. I wanted to laugh at how much he was acting like Bobby. I wondered if he even realized it.

"My car? My…my…my…Mercedes?" Miller stuttered in answer to Ross' question.

"Do you have another car?" I asked him in annoyance.

This guy was a marshmallow. It just didn't add up.

I'd gotten Bobby's text earlier about the Tec-9.

My blood had run cold when I read it. _Bobby'd been shot with a Tec-9_…not too many people had that experience and lived to tell the tale.

As I looked at the blithering moron across from me, I didn't see it as plausible that he even knew what a Tec-9 was much less would he own or be able to shoot one.

Besides, that kind of weapon was a banger weapon. It was intimidating and could hold a big magazine, but it wasn't all that accurate.

"No. No just that one."

"Then let's go with that one. Where was your Mercedes?"

And then for some reason, the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end.

I suddenly and inexplicably knew that we weren't alone in the house.

All of my complacency and irritation was replaced with awareness and caution.

Maybe we _were_ in the right house.

I met Ross' gaze and I knew that he felt it, too.

Did we even know for sure that this guy _was _Van Miller?

My phone started buzzing, indicating that I had a call, but before I could even think about answering it, a voice boomed out, "Big fucking mistake, coming here."

I quickly got to my feet and rested my right hand on my hip.

I hadn't given any thought to the action, but I decided there wasn't any harm in letting him think that I had a weapon.

My jacket was hiding where it would've been, so he wouldn't know for sure. I held my left hand out in front of me as the man came fully into the room.

"And what the fuck is your problem? Why you gotta be such an idiot?" he yelled at the sweating man on the couch, whom by now I was pretty sure _wasn't_ Van Miller.

"I'm sorry, Van, I thought I could…"

"So _you're_ Van Miller," I stated to the newest edition. "That makes a whole lot more sense."

He couldn't have looked any more like a drug dealer, and Carrie had been right about her _wannabe_ assessment.

"Yeah, well you're gonna wish you was still dealin' with my dumbass brother," he said as he pulled out his gun.

A Tec-9.

It fit his wannabe image, even down to the gang-banger choice of weapon.

And my heart was in my throat as I realized that _this_ was the bastard who had shot Bobby.

He'd killed Derek and nearly taken out my husband in the process.

Oddly enough, as I looked down the barrel of the gun, I wasn't afraid for myself.

Instead, all I could think was that if he gave me one second of an opportunity, I was going to kill him with my bare hands.

"Give me your guns," he instructed both me and Ross.

"I don't have one," I replied as I opened my jacket to allow him visual confirmation.

"What kind of cop doesn't carry a gun?" he asked as he looked from me to Ross. "What about you?"

"No," he told him as he also held open his jacket.

I watched Ross carefully and although he didn't flinch or show any emotion at all, I thought that maybe I could read him.

And I thought that maybe he was lying.

_Did he have a gun_?

"What, are you guys _auxiliary_ cops?" he laughed. "You couldn't qualify to carry a weapon? Are you a couple of no-shootin' mother fuckers?"

He laughed for a long minute at his own joke while Ross and I stood perfectly still.

"Van," the other man said, and Van instantly stopped laughing and pointed his gun at his brother.

"Herb, you need to shut the fuck up! This is all your fault!"

"Hey, Van, really…" he began again as he stood up from the couch.

"One simple job," Van interrupted. "Get rid of 'em, I told you. Pretend you're me, and send them on their way. And what did you fuckin' do? You let them into the fuckin' house and then started fuckin' up your story, you idiot piece of shit."

And then he shot him.

The bullet caught Herb in the leg and he went down to the floor, howling in agony.

I was careful not to outwardly react, and Ross impressed me by doing the same thing.

Even though he had to know the same thing that I knew.

We were so screwed.

At this point, I was standing about five feet away from Ross, so I took a couple of steps closer to him, but then Van pointed the gun at me.

"Where you going, bitch?" he asked.

"I'm not going anywhere," I assured him. He dropped the gun a few inches, and nodded his head at me.

"Damn straight. Now tell me what's going on. Did Cabbage rat me out? Cause if that mother fucker is telling you shit, I'm going to string him up by his balls…"

My phone started buzzing again, and Van looked down at where it was clipped to my belt.

I reached for it, but he leveled the gun at my head again and I quickly brought my hands up.

"Hey, I was just going to silence my phone," I assured him.

"Just turn that damn thing off," he told me as my phone continued to buzz.

I slowly pulled it off my belt.

I had planned on trying to inconspicuously hit the button so that the call would be connected, but before I could do anything, he jerked it out of my hand.

He glanced at it for a second and then threw it onto the floor and crushed it under his heel.

"Now fuckin' tell me what Cabbage said."

"He hasn't said a word," I told him, even though I had no idea whether he had or hadn't.

I hadn't talked to Bobby since his chat with Cabbage.

Although I had no doubt it was Bobby who was trying to call me.

And that meant that now he'd be worried out of his mind since I didn't answer.

"So it was that slut bitch Carrie then, right?"

"No," I insisted. "She wouldn't tell us anything either."

"Then what the fuck are you doing here?"

"Just asking questions," I replied calmly. "It's what we do."

"Don't be a smartass, bitch. I'll kill you right fuckin' now."

"You don't want to do that," Ross spoke up.

"No? Why not? You wanna die first?" Van asked him, shifting the gun from me to Ross.

"You don't want to kill anyone," I told him, and then I silently amended that statement to _anyone else_. "Especially not cops. That's the death penalty."

He took a moment to pace again as I pondered the best course of action. At the moment, I had nothing.

"Here's what we're gonna do," he said at last. "You're going to call in and report that I'm clean. Your questions were fuckin' stupid and I don't have nothing to do with nothing. Got it?"

"Yeah, sure," I said. _Good, I could make a phone call_. That offered me a little hope. "We got it."

"And then in a little while, we're gonna take a ride," he added.

I didn't like the sound of that, but at least we'd bought ourselves a little time.

"You call it in," he told me. "And if you try any kind of bullshit code talk, I'll kill this Mike Brady-lookin' mother fucker right now, got it bitch?"

"I got it."

**

* * *

**

Bobby POV

I didn't want to admit that I was bleeding again. I didn't want anything to impede me from getting to Alex.

I thought back to when it had likely happened. The chest bump by Cabbage.

That had been maybe thirty minutes ago at the most.

The blood stain wasn't too big considering how much time had passed. Maybe it was only a small tear. Maybe I could contain it.

So I did the only thing that I could think of.

I put my hand over the location of the artery tear and pushed hard. I bit the inside of my mouth in an effort to deal with the pain.

It was excruciating though, and for a minute, I thought I was going to pass out.

"Goren, you okay?" Mike asked me.

"Yeah," I ground out. I knew I wasn't fooling anybody.

"Bobby, you're pale. What's wrong?" Carolyn asked, and she leaned up as though to look over the front seat, but the cage divider stopped her progress.

"I'm fine!" I barked out. "Call her again."

I stayed front-facing in the car and continued to apply pressure. Every muscle in my body was tight, fighting against the pain in my arm.

"Still nothing," Logan said. "Straight to voice mail."

That had me worried. It meant that her phone was probably off, and she never turned it off. Not when we weren't together anyway.

"You don't have Ross' number?" Reggie asked as he barreled up the interstate.

"I had it in my phone," I told him. "I…um…call Liz," I said suddenly. "You have that number don't you?"

"I don't," Mike said.

"I do," Carolyn said quickly. "It's in my phone. Look in the contacts, Bobby."

I let go of my arm and grabbed her phone off my lap. I shoved it through the wire divider and then resumed holding pressure on my arm.

"Mike, he's bleeding again," I heard her say. I don't know why it surprised me that she had noticed the blood on my hand. Of course, I'd probably gotten some on her phone, too.

"I'm fine. Just make the damn call."

"Pull over Reggie," Logan directed.

"No! Keep driving!"

"If you get in the backseat, I can do something about the bleeding, okay? I'm not suggesting that we stop for long. You and Carolyn just switch places so that I can do a little damage control, okay?"

"Fine. Okay."

Reggie squealed to a stop on the shoulder, and I got out of the car and opened up the back door. Carolyn got out and climbed in the front, and I sat heavily onto the backseat.

"Go!" I yelled.

He had to wait for traffic, but only for a second since he still had the lights flashing. All in all the stop only took about ten seconds.

"What, were you just going to try to hide this and pretend like nothing was wrong?" Logan asked me in concerned aggravation. He pulled my jacket off my shoulders and I sat still and let him take over.

"Liz! It's Carolyn. I need Ross' cell number," I heard Carolyn say. "I'll explain later."

Logan got the sling off of me and pulled my shirt away so that he could assess the damage.

"Do you know when you did it?" he asked me.

"Thirty minutes ago maybe."

"It's not too bad," he said. "It's oozing, not pumping. Reggie, you got any first aid supplies in here?"

"Glove box," he replied.

Carolyn reached for the glove box with one hand while holding the phone to her ear with the other.

"No answer from Ross," she stated.

"Straight to voice mail?"

"No, it rang four times."

She handed some gauze and medical tape through the divider and Logan went to work applying a new bandage.

"We get Alex, and then straight to a doctor, got it?"

"I hear you. Let's just worry about getting Alex right now, okay?"

"How much longer Reggie?"

"Twenty minutes. Although Waukegan PD should be out there any minute."

Carolyn's phone rang just as Mike was getting my sling back into place.

"It's Ross," she said in relief after looking at the display.

"This is Carolyn," she answered. She listened for a moment and then turned in the seat and caught my eye.

"Are you okay? Ross?"

I sat up straighter as I realized that she must be talking to Alex.

"Let me talk to her," I said, but Carolyn slowly shook her head as she listened intently.

"Miller? Anyone else?" she asked hurriedly. "We're on the way."

She hung up and looked at me.

"She was calling in to report that the lead was a bust."

"What?" Mike asked in confusion.

But I knew exactly what was going on.

"Miller's holding them hostage," I stated.

Carolyn nodded, and Reggie picked up the police radio to call it in to the WPD.

"Have them just watch the house and wait for us to get there," I told him.

"It's not my jurisdiction. And I can't give that kind of order, even if it were."

"Just ask them. We know this guy. We can talk him down, or at the very least, give Alex a chance to get her and Ross out of there. If the cops go in with guns, it'll be a massacre," I said confidently.

But it was all bullshit.

Because I didn't really know this guy.

And I had no idea how to get her out of there alive.

TBC...


	25. Chapter 25

**Ross POV**

* * *

I was determined not to let anything happen to Alex.

I couldn't.

If things got ugly, I was just going to have to try to tackle the guy myself and hope like hell that she could escape.

_Yeah, because surely Alex would run away from a dangerous situation_, I thought sarcastically.

But it was my only hope at the moment.

She'd made the call using my phone since our genius captor had crushed hers.

"This is Detective Goren," she'd said. "Yes…um…I just wanted…um…yeah, to um…let you know that we're…um yeah…done interviewing Mr. Miller, and it's a um…uh uh…dead end."

I had no doubt that Goren was on the other end asking questions, which was the reason for her halting and less-than-eloquent speech.

And knowing him, he'd asked exactly the right questions, so I figured that he and the Logans were at this very moment racing toward Waukegan.

"Nice job. Now you two move over there," Miller directed, pointing towards the corner of the room.

His brother was still on the floor near the couch, moaning in pain.

"You're making a mess, Herb, and you're giving me a fuckin' headache!"

He focused on his brother for a moment. Herb was bleeding but not excessively so. He didn't appear to be in imminent danger.

_This guy shoots Goren from across the field and clips an artery, but shoots his brother from five feet away and barely does any damage other than the hole_.

"Velocity and positioning," Alex said quietly. "And dumb luck."

"What?"

"The bullet was traveling at a higher velocity due to the close proximity. It would've gone straight through without veering one way or the other. The way Herb was standing, the outside of his leg was toward Miller."

I stared at her for a moment, attempting to process how she'd been able to determine my exact thought process.

Finally, I had to ask, "How in the world did you…"

"Hey! Shut the hell up!" Miller shouted, swinging the gun around to point it at Alex.

"What's the plan now?" I asked quickly in an effort to get him to point the gun at me.

Predictably, he did. He was an amateur. He had trouble pointing it at someone other than who he was talking to. That offered me hope as well.

"Van," Herb wailed. "Van, I need a doctor."

"Give me your cuffs," Miller said to me.

"I don't have any."

"No cuffs? Are you fuckin' kidding me?" he asked as he approached us. Then his face darkened as he came to a stop directly in front of me. "Who are you? Did Cabbage send you?"

"To kill you?" Alex asked on a laugh. "What, you think we're hit men? Assassins without guns?"

"Don't laugh at me," he insisted. He moved to stand in front of her and then he shoved the nose of the gun against her forehead. "Don't you _fuckin_' laugh at me, do you understand?"

"Yeah, I got it," she replied levelheadedly.

Damn, did the woman _never_ break a sweat? She maintained eye contact with him the whole time.

"Good," he said, slowly dropping the weapon. "Now stand there with your backs against the wall. If you open your mouths or move away from that wall, I swear to God, I'll put a fuckin' bullet in your head."

We both complied and he eased away from us slowly, and then half-turned towards his brother.

The minutes ticked away. I wanted to say something, but I was afraid that he really would shoot.

I wanted to have a brilliant plan, but my mind was blank.

Well, not entirely blank, but I couldn't come up with a plan that didn't end up with at least me dead.

And while I preferred that development to having _Alex_ end up dead, I still hoped to avoid fatalities altogether.

Mine and hers anyway.

Miller was up for grabs.

After pacing for awhile, he went over and stood next to Herb.

I knew that we were making Miller nervous. I couldn't figure out why he hadn't made any effort to bind us somehow other than to ask us for cuffs.

Although, I guess he didn't have anything in the living room and he couldn't leave us alone.

A creative criminal would've used an electrical cord.

A curtain cord.

Hell, even our belts.

I was grateful that Miller didn't seem to be a creative criminal.

But he did still have that damn Tec-9 which was the only thing holding us at bay at the moment.

I watched as Miller hovered over his brother and continued to throw random glances at us. He pulled his brother's pants down to assess the damage to his outer thigh, and when I was sure that he was engrossed for a moment, I chanced a look at Alex.

She chose the same moment to look at me.

I was amazed by the volumes she spoke with her eyes.

_First chance we get, I'm going after him. Don't try to talk me out of it, just back me up_.

Had she always been like this? Or had she just gotten like this since marrying the other Goren? Did she just now realize how much she had to live for?

No, she had an incredible fortitude running through her that was ingrained.

I could perfectly see why Logan called her Wonder Woman.

And yet at the same time, I couldn't let her do it. I couldn't let her go at him.

Because I had a gun.

Tom had given me his back-up .22 when he'd given me the keys to his car. I had it strapped to my leg in an ankle holster.

I hadn't told Alex about it, since it was illegal for me to have it.

_And why had I worried about that_?

I had no idea because right about now, I was really wishing that I had told her. Partners didn't hold out on each other.

_Goren would've told her_, I told myself mockingly.

But as much as I hated to admit it, I was no Goren.

I had my assets. I had things I did well.

But I needed to quit trying to compare myself to him.

I was pulled from my self-analysis by the scream of Herb.

"Shut the fuck up, you fuckin' pansy!" Van yelled at him.

This guy was a whack job. He'd shot his own brother. How messed up was that? And now he was shouting at him for expressing his pain.

"Stop pushing on it!" Herb cried out.

And then I flashed onto the vision of Goren getting out of the hospital this morning.

He'd stood tall and stoic, not showing any hint of pain or discomfort. In fact, he'd been sympathetic to Logan's pain, rather than focusing on his own.

He was a super hero in his own right.

Miller finished tending to his brother's wound and then he helped him to his feet.

We had now been in this house for nearly an hour.

It had been half that long since Alex's call. Surely there were cops outside.

As though on cue, I heard the telltale sound of chopper blades.

_The cops must have called in the damn hostage crisis team_, I thought. I watched Miller closely, but with Herb's fussing, it didn't appear as though he heard the sound.

I caught Alex's eye again. She was even more determined than ever. She'd heard the same sound and I knew what she was thinking.

We didn't want to sit through a negotiation. That could take hours.

While unlikely, it was possible that Herb could bleed out.

Not only that, but Miller was a ticking time bomb. Negotiators would only piss him off.

We needed to handle this quickly.

I wracked my brain thinking of how I could get to the gun. I also needed Alex to be a little further away from me so that when I got Miller to focus on me, she could maybe get away.

We were in the corner of the room with me along the side wall and Alex along the front. The closer I could get her toward the front door, the better.

I looked at Miller as he helped Herb onto the sofa where he propped his leg up on a pillow. It was strangely oppositional to how he'd acted only moments before.

While he was distracted, I glanced back at Alex. I shifted my eyes to the left repeatedly to convey to her that I wanted her to move.

I knew that she'd have no idea what I had in mind. Would she follow my lead?

The question barely permeated my mind when I saw her subtly shift left.

She trusted me.

She managed to slide nearly three feet along the wall before Miller turned around to face us. He finally had Herb settled and calmed down.

Although she had moved, we both still had our backs to the wall. I'd shifted slightly closer toward the corner to give the appearance that we were still the same distance apart.

And as Miller looked us over, I began to shift my weight from one foot to the other.

"Stand still!" Miller yelled at me.

"I've got a cramp," I told him.

"Are you fucking kidding me? A cramp? How old are you?"

I increased my shifting because despite his taunts, he seemed to be buying it.

"I'm not kidding. My leg is killing me."

"No, I'm going to kill you if you don't stand still."

"Damn, Ross, don't you ever quit?" Alex asked harshly. "He's always bitching about his cramps," she added to Miller. "He's worse than Herb over there with all his moaning and groaning."

Miller chuckled at her ridicule of me, so she wisely kept it up.

"You may as well let him work it out," she added. "He's never going to quit. Believe me, I have to work with this guy every damn day."

He waved his gun at me in a gesture of acquiescence.

"Go ahead, Nancy boy. Work out your cramp," he told me. "Cause we're gonna be here a little while longer. I gotta wait on somebody."

I slowly bent down and began massaging my calf muscle. But Miller kept staring at me, so it wasn't going to do me any good.

And then I heard the thunk of a car door closing.

Miller looked toward the front door and I grabbed the .22 from my ankle holster.

It wouldn't hold up for long in a gun fight with a Tec-9, but it might give Alex time to get out alive.

I stood up quickly, aiming my pistol at Miller as he whirled around to face me.

"You were holding out on me, mother fucker?" he shouted as his face clouded over in anger.

I began to side-step away from Alex to keep Miller's focus and hopefully get her out of his peripheral vision.

Another step and I had him facing two-thirds of the way away from her. And she was only a few feet away from the front door.

_Run_, I yelled in my head.

And she did.

Except she didn't run away from Miller.

She ran towards him.

She crossed the space that had separated them in a split-second and tackled him low, catching him at the knees.

They both went down and the gun went off.

I felt a bullet whiz past my head as I charged toward the melee.

The gun went off again as Alex fought for control.

She was on top of him and the two of them were such a tangled mess that I couldn't decide how best to help.

I definitely couldn't shoot.

In the end, I tucked the .22 in my waistband and lunged for his arm. After a moment, I managed to pin it to the floor.

With one of his hands immobilized, Miller started flailing madly with his other hand.

I heard a loud smack as he caught Alex in the side of the head with his open hand, but it didn't slow her down. She hauled back and punched him in the jaw and then used both hands to finally wrestle the Tec-9 from his grasp.

And she didn't stop there.

Once she had the weapon in her hands, she then proceeded to beat the crap out of him with it.

I wasn't about to stop her.

In fact, I not only kept my grip on his right arm, but I also managed to catch hold of his left wrist as well, effectively preventing him from defending himself.

She slowed down after a minute and when she realized that he wasn't struggling any more, she quit altogether.

She was breathing heavily from the exertion that she'd put into the blows, and I watched her as she finally stood up and then gave him a kick for good measure.

"You sure you're done?" I asked her earnestly as she took a step away from him.

I still had a grip on him, but he was passed out cold.

His face was a bloody mess, the butt of the weapon having created multiple lacerations on his skin.

But considering all that Miller had done, I still would've been okay with her getting a few more licks in.

"Yeah," she replied with a nod. "You had a gun?"

"I'm sorry. I should've told you before we got here."

"No. I'm just glad you had it," she told me with a shake of her head. "Now put it back," she added pointedly.

Then she tossed the Tec-9 onto the floor on the opposite side of the room and opened up the front door. She held her hands up in the air so that there wouldn't be any confusion as to her lack of threat.

"It's clear!" she yelled.

Within ten seconds, the house was filled with cops.

"You okay, sir?" one of the cops asked me. I looked across the room at Alex as she stood against the far wall, trying to catch her breath. Two cops stood in front of her undoubtedly attempting to get her statement.

Would she admit to beating him after we had the upper-hand?

Maybe. But they'd never hear it from me.

Would she tell them that I had a gun?

Absolutely not.

Another two minutes passed before I heard a commotion at the door.

"Arrest me if you want to, but we're coming in!"

That was Logan, of course.

Goren stood quietly beside him and looked like death warmed over. I saw blood staining the front of his sling. I watched as, with wild eyes, he searched the room for Alex.

Simply by watching him, I knew the moment that he saw her.

But their passage was blocked by several officers.

"Hey, who's in charge here?"

That was Carolyn. She smoothly slipped past Logan and walked into the room as though she owned it.

"I'm representing Alex Goren," she stated loudly.

_Oh Lord, she's passing herself off as an attorney_.

"Her husband is in need of immediate medical attention and she needs to go with him," she continued. "She'll be available to give her statement at the 11th District in Chicago first thing in the morning."

"Miss…um…" one of the officers began.

"Mrs. Logan," she supplied. "She's not suspected of any crime, is she?"

"Well, no…"

"Then she's coming with us. As I stated, she'll be available at nine a.m.."

"Ma'am…"

"Officer, is there a problem here?"

It was Tom.

I closed my eyes and allowed myself to breathe for a minute.

Carolyn might have been able to pull off her ruse with just a little more bluster, but now she wouldn't have to.

And it didn't look like she was making up that part about Goren needing a hospital, so the sooner they could get out of here, the better.

"Captain Coulter," the officer recognized. "You're a little out of your jurisdiction, aren't you?"

"This situation resulted from an investigation that was being conducted out of my precinct. I apologize for the lack of communication. I was unaware that our email server was down, thus rendering our electronic notification ineffective."

"You can assure me that these hostages will be made available for statements at your station in the morning?"

"Absolutely."

The officer hesitated and then gave a nod to his subordinates who stood aside.

I was entranced as I watched Goren cross the room, his eyes still focused only on Alex. He used only his left arm, but he still seemed to fully envelope her, holding her close despite the pain he must have been feeling.

"You okay, Danny?"

I was surprised to see that Carolyn and Logan had come up beside me. I'd been completely spellbound by the reunion I'd just witnessed.

"I'm…I'm fine."

Logan looked across the room at Herb who was zoned out on the sofa, and then further to where Miller was surrounded by paramedics.

"What the hell happened in here?" he asked in a low voice.

"Wonder Woman saved the day," I replied.

"She usually does," Logan agreed. He put his hand on my shoulder. "Come on. Let's head back. We need to get Goren back to the hospital."

"What's going on with him?" I asked as I followed the other two toward the door.

"I think he tore his sutures. It's not extensive, but it definitely needs attention."

I looked back toward the Gorens where they were still embracing each other on the far side of the room.

"Bobby, Alex!" Carolyn called out.

They pulled apart and turned to follow us. I went out the door and down the front steps behind the Logans.

I paused at the bottom, ready to ask Logan how they'd gotten up to Waukegan, when I heard Alex shout.

"Bobby!"

I whirled around and stood frozen as I watched the scene unfold. His skin had gone ashen and his knees had given way. Alex grabbed for him, but couldn't hold on.

He hit the concrete surface of the porch and then tumbled down the front stairs.

TBC...


	26. Chapter 26

**Bobby POV**

* * *

Falling down the stairs served to spark my brain into functioning properly again.

Maybe.

Maybe not.

Because for some reason, I could hear Rodgers' voice in my head.

"_It's hard to die from falling down the stairs. It's basically a series of eight-inch falls. Your natural instinct is to cover your head."_

Had I covered my head?

I don't know, but it was throbbing. And so was my arm.

I'd thought I was doing okay, but as we stepped outside, the darkness had closed in around my peripheral vision.

"Get a damn gurney over here!" I heard Logan shout.

"Bobby, open your eyes," Alex encouraged.

I forced my eyes open and found myself staring directly into her eyes. She was hovering over me as I lay sprawled at the bottom of the stairs.

But other than looking at my beautiful wife and listening to Logan barking out instructions to paramedics, I wasn't really aware of anything.

Well, I was aware, but not participating.

I was merely a bystander.

"He had a gunshot wound to the upper arm a little more than twenty-four hours ago. The brachial artery was repaired with sutures…"

Logan rattled on and on with mundane facts about my injury. What was the big deal?

I tried to clear my brain by remembering how I'd gotten to this point.

_I'd been in Chicago, talking to Cabbage. _

_And then I'd realized that Miller was a killer, and I couldn't reach Alex by phone, which was why I was now in Waukegan. _

_And at some point, I'd managed to rupture the sutures in my arm. _

_Oh, and then I found out that the madman drug-dealer-slash-killer was holding my Alex hostage inside a house. At gunpoint. With Ross._

I paused my recall.

Was that for real? Because it sounded like something out of a dream.

But I was sure that it had happened. Had _just_ happened.

_I'd arrived in Waukegan with the Logans and…and…someone else. Reggie. _

_And our arrival had been an inconvenience for the locals. _

_An annoyance and an unwelcome intrusion. _

_But Mike had been in full-on bulldog mode, and Carolyn had once again opened the box, so between the two of them, we managed to get inside the cordoned area._

_Oddly enough, I'd been the only calm one._

_On the outside anyway. _

_On the inside I was a mess of nerves and fear, but I think I'd lost too much blood to let it show. _

_So I'd just focused on putting one foot in front of the other. And getting Alex back. _

_Because if I didn't have the latter, then the former wasn't so important._

_And finally, after what felt like an eternity, I'd watched mesmerized as the front door flung open and there stood Alex. _

_"It's clear!" she'd yelled. _

_Once again, she'd saved herself…_

"Bobby, talk to me. Say something," Alex insisted. She was watching me closely.

Was this a test? What did she want me to say?

I wasn't sure, but I knew what was on my mind.

"Sei bellissima," I told her.

And although I'd meant for it to be sweet, for some reason, my words seemed to panic her.

"In English, Bobby," she corrected. "Did he hit his head?" she added, looking around at the others.

"I didn't think so."

I recognized Carolyn's voice. Things were starting to clear up, and I was beginning to feel more in the here and now.

"It looked like he fell more on his side," she continued. "But check him for a head wound."

"You need to move out of the way," an unknown voice shouted.

I squeezed Alex's hand to regain her attention and then I spoke to her again, this time saying the words in English.

"You're beautiful."

She flashed me a quick, relieved smile and let out the breath she'd been holding.

And then she was moved from my field of vision as paramedics took over.

They poked and prodded at me, then put me on a gurney and wheeled me out to the street where they loaded me into the back of the ambulance.

"Take him to County in Chicago," Logan ordered.

"We're not driving forty-five minutes to take him to a hospital. He's barely responsive."

"I'm responsive," I muttered.

Everyone ignored me, but I felt the vehicle shift again as someone climbed in.

Alex. Thank _God_. I didn't want her to be out of my sight.

"How're you doing, Bobby?"

"Mi fai eccitare," I told her. It made her chuckle, which had been my intent.

"Okay, don't say _that_ in English," she whispered as she leaned in close to me.

"Get County on the phone," Mike insisted.

"Sir, we can't just go to whichever hospital you choose," the paramedic argued.

"Fine, then get him back out and I'll drive him there myself."

"Quit arguing and get the damn doctor on the phone!" Alex shouted, interrupting their dispute.

Alex won.

The paramedic told Logan to follow and then climbed in the back. The driver got County on the radio as we sped down the highway.

Dr. Carter came on and in no uncertain terms, told the driver that as long as I wasn't going to bleed out in the next hour, then I should be brought to him.

"I'm fine," I insisted as the paramedic began working on me again. He took off my jacket and then got another set of vitals.

"Start working on getting that shirt off of him," the paramedic told Alex.

I waggled my eyebrows at her as she began to unbutton my shirt but she just mouthed the word _behave_.

While she worked on getting the top half of me undressed, the paramedic got his supplies ready to start an IV.

"Is he on medication?" he asked her. She rattled off the list.

"When did this happen?" she asked me worriedly as she pulled the blood-stained sling and shirt from my body.

She shifted out of the way of the paramedic and moved to my other side while he got the line in and then, after checking under Mike's makeshift bandage, put a BP cuff on my upper arm and pumped it up to help stop the flow.

"Cabbage tried to…assert his authority," I admitted.

"Did he tell you anything?"

"Miller killed Derek and another guy named Mickey…something. The Mouse they called him. Cabbage killed Yoyo as payback for Miller killing the Mouse."

"So Miller killed Mouse, and then Cabbage killed Yoyo. And Miller killed Derek to protect Cabbage after they've offed each other's friends? Why? Why would Miller protect him?"

That was a very good question. And considering all that had happened this afternoon, it was something that I hadn't taken the time to sort out.

_Why would he protect him? _

Surely dealers were a dime a dozen. He could let Cabbage go to jail and just use the next banger in line to sell his drugs.

Was he afraid that Cabbage would rat him out? He hadn't yet and surely if he was going to play that card, he would've done so already in an attempt to get bail.

"Miller had a nice house, but…" I said, and then out of the corner of my eye, I saw the paramedic pick up the port on my IV line. "No!" I shouted.

"What?" he asked, hesitating just before inserting the needle.

"No drugs."

"It's just a little morphine. It'll take the edge off."

"I don't want the edge off," I insisted.

Damn, the fog had finally cleared after my tumble down the stairs, and I was right on the verge of…_some_thing.

The last thing I needed was to become more dazed and confused.

"Sir, it will help relax you and lower your blood pressure…"

"I don't want it. Alex…"

"He's refusing treatment, okay?" she said in her cop voice. "So put the needle down."

"Okay," he said after they had a brief stare-down. He shook his head and sat back against the side of the vehicle.

"How much longer to County?"

"Fifteen minutes."

"Okay," she said with a nod, and then she looked back at me and ran her hand through my hair. "You doing okay, honey?"

"Yeah," I said on a sigh, grateful that I hadn't been given the drug. "Okay, so where were we? Miller…Cabbage…"

"There has to be more," she said. "There has to be someone else. Someone who's benefiting from this little enterprise."

"Yeah, but who? Not one of the bangers we were looking for."

"No, it's someone who's trying to stay on as a silent partner. You know, back at the house, Miller said he was waiting on someone. Maybe a call with orders? I don't know."

_Back at the house…_

_Back when that bastard had held my Alex at gunpoint. _

_He'd actually put the gun against her forehead and applied enough pressure to leave a mark on her skin…_

"Bobby," her gentle voice said. "I'm fine."

And she was. I knew that.

And I'd seen what she'd done to Miller. I had no doubt that she'd done it as payback for what he did to me rather than for what he'd done to her.

She'd given me a brief summary of events while we were still in the house, when I'd held her close.

But mostly I'd just held on.

Whatever had happened was over.

My relief had been so great that I could barely think anything else except _she's okay_.

And it was probably only my adrenaline that had kept me on my feet for so long. Once the immediate danger had passed, my body gave out on me.

Fortunately, I didn't feel any new pain from my fall down the stairs. I was probably bruised, but I didn't think that anything was broken.

"We need his phone records," I told Alex as I forced my thoughts back on the case. "Miller's. If he was waiting for a call, then surely he's gotten similar calls in the past."

"We'll never get access to them."

"Coulter was there tonight," I reminded her. "And Reggie gave me the ballistics reports, Narcotics files…he wouldn't risk his career for us. He must have done it because Coulter gave him a silent go-ahead."

"He must really owe Ross big," she said thoughtfully.

"So you had him alone in the car for an hour and you didn't ask him?" I teased.

"We talked about…other things," she replied with a smile. "But I'll fill you in on that later. Okay, so phone records. You're thinking…what? Someone outwardly clean?"

I nodded. Because that's exactly what I was thinking.

"Where do you think they'll take Miller?" I asked her.

"He's going to County," the paramedic said. "The Chicago PD insisted on maintaining custody, but he definitely needed medical treatment. County has a jail ward."

"You think he'd actually talk?" she asked me.

"I don't know. But I'd definitely like to talk to him."

"We're a minute out," the driver called back to the paramedic beside us.

"Stay with me, okay?" I asked Alex.

"Just let them try to make me leave."

At least this time, I was aware of everything as the ambulance doors opened up and I was removed from the back. Alex hopped down and maintained her position next to me.

"Mr. Goren, it's Dr. Carter. Do you remember me?" I pulled my gaze from Alex's face and looked to the other side of the gurney.

"You're the guy who lives here, right?" I joked.

He barked out a laugh and then he pushed his stethoscope against my chest as we moved through the doors, down a hall and back into a trauma room.

"I'm glad you still have your sense of humor. But I'm pretty sure I told you light duty," he said in between calling out orders. "Confronting a suspected murderer doesn't really count."

"I didn't...um...I didn't do anything."

"Nothing except blow your sutures. You're lucky it was probably only one since you waited so long to come in," he chastised. "You could've bled out, you know."

_What, was I supposed to come see him while Alex was being held hostage? _

"Alex..." I began.

"Yeah, I heard. Alex needed you," he told me with a smile. "Your friend called me from the car and filled me in on what happened."

"How does it look?" Alex asked him as he pulled back the bandage and let down the BP cuff.

I didn't look, but instead I watched Alex's face. She would tell me what I needed to know. She remained impassive, so I decided that it wasn't too bad.

"About like I expected," he replied as he refilled the cuff and replaced the bandage. "I think I can still repair it down here. But if it happens again, you're going to have to have surgery."

"Dr. Carter," the nurse stated, and then she pointed at the door. Through the windows, Mike's head was clearly visible, and I had no doubt that Carolyn was right beside him.

"Let them in," I said. The nurse waited for Dr. Carter's accompanying nod and then she beckoned them inside.

I was only partly right.

It was Mike and Carolyn and _Ross_. I'd almost forgotten about him.

"Just for two minutes, guys, while I get set up for the procedure, okay? Then you have to wait outside."

"How're you feeling?" Mike asked me.

"Like I've been here before," I joked.

Honestly though, the second time around was much less painful.

Or maybe not.

Maybe it was just less frightening.

The first time, I'd been in and out of consciousness and unsure of whether or not I'd survive.

This time, I was awake and I knew that I was in good hands.

"Does he need more blood?" Mike asked the doctor.

"Very possibly," he told him. "Right now I think he's probably okay, but it depends on how the procedure goes. If the artery tears and causes more blood loss, then definitely. If it holds firm, then he should be alright."

"Can I give some, just in case?"

"No," Dr. Carter stated firmly.

"What? Why not?"

"Because you gave two pints yesterday, which is one more than we normally allow," he said sternly. But then he smiled, and added, "Although I do give you points for being able to bully the nurse into doing it."

"I'll do it," Ross spoke up.

"What?" I asked quickly, looking at him in surprise.

"You know we do actually have a blood bank here," the doctor said.

"You're A-positive, right?" Ross asked me, ignoring the doctor. I nodded at him and then he turned back to Dr. Carter. "So am I. I'll donate."

I didn't know how to respond to that, but the nurse saved me from what would have surely been an embarrassing show of emotion.

"We need you guys to wait outside. You can come back when the doctor is finished."

The three of them moved toward the door but Alex stood fast.

"I'll stay out of the way," she said before anyone could argue.

"Hey, Goren," Mike called before he left the room. "Something to think about while he's working on your arm."

"Yeah?"

"I found out that Cabbage had another visitor after you left him."

"Who?"

"Carver."

TBC...


	27. Chapter 27

**Logan POV**

* * *

The time in the waiting room was mercifully short.

I was so glad that Dr. Carter was the one here, because not only had he streamlined the process, but he also knew what was going on with Goren's arm, so he could get in and get out without going through the familiarization routine.

And that was exactly what he did. He went in, stitched it back up, and then he got the hell out.

And since Goren had been cleared for head trauma, had no broken bones from his fall down the stairs, and his arm was repaired without the need for transfusions, there was no reason to keep him.

At least, no reason that withstood Alex's forceful coercion.

"We promise to come back," she said.

I had a hard time not laughing at her considering that was eerily similar to what she'd told the man just this morning.

"Not in an ambulance," he clarified, clearly thinking the same thing that I was. "Tomorrow morning, just to let me check everything out."

"And if you see one spot of blood on the outside of the bandage, you come straight here," he added, looking pointedly at Goren. And then he broke into a grin. "I don't want to hear any excuses about your wife being held hostage, or some drug czar on the loose. Those stories are a dime a dozen."

"If you can get him to follow orders, then you'll be doing better than me," Ross chimed in.

And _he_ had a smile on his face.

I think I was starting to like this guy.

Not only had he given up a pint of his blood on the off-chance that Goren might have needed it, but he'd also stayed cool and helped Alex escape from Miller.

His version of events had painted her as the sole hero, but I know how to read between the lines.

"So, where are we going to start?" Alex said as the five of us went up the stairs to the El. "Cabbage or Carver?"

"Let's hit them both," Goren suggested. "Alex and I will go talk to Carver, and you three go see Cabbage."

I wasn't surprised by his suggestion. It made sense to split up and go at this thing from both sides, and I also knew that he wasn't going to let Alex out of his sight any time soon.

But damn did I ever want to see Carver.

"Is that okay with you, Mike?" Goren asked me. I guess my face had given me away.

"Yeah, that's um…yeah."

"I know you want Carver," he said. "But he's going to be defensive with you after you nearly strangled him."

"He what?" Ross asked Goren, and then he looked at me. "You did what?"

"I merely wanted him to _think_ that I was going to strangle him," I clarified with a smirk. "And I may have trashed his desk."

"Is that why he had you arrested?"

"He had Mike arrested because he's a chauvinist," Carolyn spoke up. At Ross' questioning look, she continued. "He knew Bobby was in the hospital, and he doesn't consider either me or Alex a threat because we're women. So as far as he was concerned, if he got rid of Mike for a little while, then our investigation would stall out."

"He doesn't consider you two a threat?" Ross choked out. "I find that hard to believe."

"You know, she has a point," I said thoughtfully.

"What do you mean?" Goren asked.

"Carver doesn't see Alex or Carolyn as anything but women," I explained. "Potential wife material, and…and…one who wasted her life on the wrong man."

"Mike," Carolyn interrupted.

"No, that's what _he_ thinks," I insisted, and then I pointed at the girls. "So those two should talk to him. He'll be a whole lot more likely to let down his guard with them."

"He's right," Alex said, looking up at Bobby. "You guys should go to the station and talk with Cabbage again. Find out his version of events and we'll get Carver's. Then we'll meet up and compare notes."

"Over dinner," Ross said. "I'm starving. Don't you guys ever stop to eat?"

"Seven-thirty," Carolyn suggested. "At the hotel. We'll eat dinner there."

Goren hadn't said anything yet, so I kept my eye on him while he considered our plan. I could understand why he didn't want to split from Alex again, but he was going to have to get over it sooner or later.

And since this was the best viable plan, it was going to have to be sooner.

Ross must've been able to sense his hesitation, too, because after a minute, he put a hand on Bobby's shoulder and leaned in close.

"I'll give Alex my gun," he said in a low tone.

Goren nodded his agreement, and then he and Alex exchanged some kind of thing.

_Their thing_.

And I couldn't be quite so annoyed with it anymore because Carolyn and I had a thing of our own.

"But don't let him sweet-talk you into getting our marriage annulled," Goren added aloud as the train pulled up.

"Not a chance of that," she told him.

It was nearly six o'clock.

We got on the El and then Bobby and I stood in front of Ross and Alex while they made the switch with the gun.

We weren't sure if Carver would be in his office or not, but they were going to start there.

Ross had checked in with Tom to confirm that Cabbage was still at his precinct, and he was. He promised to keep him there until we were done with him.

We had a couple of minutes before our stop, so I decided to hit Ross up for dirt.

"So what do you have on Coulter?"

"What do you mean?" he asked, although I could tell that he knew exactly what I was talking about.

"Yeah," Carolyn said, turning to pin Ross with a quizzical look. "He gives you his car, a gun, he stands up for us against other LEOs…it must be something good."

"I…um…it's not really relevant."

"Maybe not, but I still want to know," I told him with a grin.

"What, are we sharing personal stories now Logan?" he replied.

"Hey, my life is an open book," I lied. "What do you want to know?"

"Guys, you can play truth or dare later," Alex stated. "Your stop's next. And call Carolyn's phone if you need us. Miller trashed mine."

I gave Carolyn a quick kiss as the train stopped, and then I followed Ross and Bobby out onto the platform.

I was right there with Goren on this. I hated sending them off alone. Although, I was the one who'd been beaten up and Goren had been shot.

So far, neither of them had gotten hurt.

I only prayed we could keep it that way.

**

* * *

**

Alex POV

"You okay?" Carolyn asked me as we left the guys and headed for Lake Shore Drive.

"Yeah," I replied without thinking. My mind was on Bobby.

I didn't want to admit it, but I hadn't been crazy about the idea of splitting up either. He was in a delicate state at the moment, although I would never tell him that.

But still…he'd been supposedly safe in the police station earlier today and yet he'd still re-injured himself.

But then he'd been essentially alone, and now he had Mike. And Ross.

So I needed to quit being so clingy and get my mind on the job.

"Alex."

"Yeah, I'm…I'm fine. It's just…been a day."

"How's your head?" she asked me. I hadn't said anything about getting clocked by Miller, so I looked at her questioningly. "Ross told us," she clarified.

"Oh. I'm fine. I've got a headache, but…"

I trailed off when Carolyn reached her hand into her pocket and pulled out a handful of aspirin.

"You just carry these around with you?" I asked with a smile. I gratefully pulled three pills from the pile.

"Hey, I'm married to Mike," she said in explanation.

"Good point. I should probably start carrying some, too."

We rode in silence for a minute, each of us gathering our thoughts.

"How do you want to do this?" she asked me.

"Do you think he's involved?"

"Honestly? No. I just find it hard to believe that he would've fallen so far. He's made some suspect choices lately, but nothing flat-out criminal. And believe me, I'm mad as hell at him for how he's handled…well, everything," she said.

She ran her hand through her hair and looked out the window for a moment before continuing.

"He went after you, he withheld information that led to Bobby getting shot, he had Mike arrested…he's a despicable man, but a drug kingpin? When he had an addict brother? I just don't see it."

I had to agree with her assessment.

"We need to play up to his opinion of us," I said after a moment.

It was going to pain me to do so, but if it ultimately gained us information, then I could play the game.

Bobby used to do it all the time to trap suspects.

"_Maybe I…I…should be writing this…stuff down," _he'd once stammered to a suspect.

It had been all I could do not to laugh, partly because Bobby never forgot anything so it didn't really matter if he wrote it down, but also because Bobby's act had caused the suspect to truly believe that Bobby was simple.

"Oh, this is going to be fun," Carolyn said. "No chance of me getting to be a broken wife who snaps and kills the first man she sees is there?"

"No," I laughed. "Sorry. You have to be nice. And don't let him know how smart you are. He's obviously forgotten, so don't remind him."

We got off at the stop nearest Carver's office, and then walked the last couple of blocks.

"How are you going to get through security?" Carolyn asked me.

There was a metal detector at the entrance of the building.

"I didn't even think about that," I admitted. I wasn't used to having to work around things like this, but as we passed a Kinkos, I had an idea.

"Hang on a second," I told her, and then I hustled inside and bought a padded mailing envelope.

Once back out on the sidewalk, I shoved the gun inside and sealed the envelope.

I wrote a random number on the outside.

We confidently went up to the security desk and tossed our items into the personal effects basket, including the padded envelope.

"Evidence," I explained when the guard looked at it. "We have to run this up to ADA Carver."

Another minute later, we were in the elevator where I opened the envelope and put the gun behind my back, tucked into the waistband of my jeans.

"You're good," Carolyn stated with a smile.

"Yeah, well hopefully we won't need it. But I underestimated one player in this thing today and I'm not about to do it again."

We strode through the ADAs' offices as though we belonged there, past the receptionist desk and down the hall to Carver's office.

I didn't knock.

"Alexandra," he said in surprise, standing up from his chair. "And Detective Barek," he added in disappointment.

"We need your help," I told him.

He walked around his desk and stood in front of it. He leaned against the surface and crossed his arms over his chest.

"How can I be of assistance?"

"Bobby," I began slowly. "He…um…had to go back to the…um…hospital, and…"

"And Mike is there, too," Carolyn added. "I don't know if you heard, but he had a run in with a couple of guys in lock-up."

I gave her points for making her statement sound innocent, as though she didn't blame him for what happened to Mike.

Of course, I partly blamed him for what happened to Bobby, too, so he was pretty lucky that we were both playing the game right now.

"So we're trying to solve this case, but it's just not making any sense," I concluded.

"Detective Goren talked to Caleb Freeman today," he said cautiously. I knew he couldn't decide whether or not to buy our act.

"Yes he did," I admitted. "And Cabbage got rough with him. That's why he's back at County."

Carver nodded thoughtfully.

"So how can I help?"

"The officers at the 11th District told us that you came in and talked to Cabbage after Bobby left. We thought that maybe you could tell us what he told you, and that might help us."

"I see. And how does this connect to my brother's death?"

"That's what we're trying to find out."

"Cabbage mentioned to Bobby that some guy named Miller was the shooter. But we don't know who that is. Miller is a pretty common name, and we haven't had any luck tracking him down," Carolyn said.

It was a risky move.

It was possible that Carver knew about what had happened in Waukegan, especially if he was the one who Miller was waiting to hear from.

But his reaction would be a good indication as to his level of involvement.

"Caleb Freeman refused to tell me anything," Carver said.

But he looked as though he was holding back a smile. I caught Carolyn's gaze, and I knew that she'd seen it, too.

"He didn't say anything?" I asked again.

"He gave me a few choice words which I won't repeat in the company of a lady," he replied, staring only at me.

I wondered if his use of the singular form of the word meant that he didn't consider Carolyn to be a lady.

And then he gave her a disdainful glance before returning his gaze to me, and I didn't have to wonder any more.

For some reason, that seemed to be the final straw.

I'd been holding in my anger for nearly ten whole minutes.

But after everything else he'd done, now this pompous ass was going to stand there and lie to us and insult Carolyn? And I was just going to sit idly by?

Not a chance in hell.

I crossed the room and stood directly in front of him. He rose up from his leaning position, but he still wasn't much taller than me. Or at least he didn't seem like it when I was used to standing next to Bobby.

"Why did you go talk to him?" I asked sharply.

"Pardon me?"

"Why did you go to see Cabbage?" I repeated slowly. "You spoke with him without his attorney present. You're the ADA prosecuting his case. Are you panicking for some reason, or are you just stupid?"

"Alexandra, I…"

"You call me Goren," I carefully enunciated. "And I don't want to hear your PC line of double-speak. Tell me why you went and what he said."

"Or what?" he asked.

"Or Carolyn calls the news desk at the Chicago Tribune and gives whoever answers the phone the story of their career."

"You wouldn't dare," he said, although his face had fear and apprehension.

"Why not?" Carolyn asked as she stepped closer. "We don't have anything to lose."

She dialed a number on her cell and then put it up to her ear. "Yes, I'd like the number for the Chicago Tribune," she said into her phone.

"Wait," he said hurriedly.

"Wait for what? For you to grow a conscience? I don't have that much time."

"Hang up!" he yelled at Carolyn. "I'll tell you."

"I'm all ears."

"I simply wanted to confirm that Mr. Freeman was not going to smear my brother's name."

"Bullshit. Try again."

He made a face at my use of the swear word, but I stepped even closer and casually adjusted his tie for him, tightening the knot more than just a little bit.

He should consider himself lucky. I wanted to just grab the offensive-looking piece of silk and drag him around the room by it, but I held back.

"That's it," he insisted. "I asked him about his testimony. I didn't want him to include anything about Derek."

"And what did he say?"

"I won't repeat it."

"You risked your career just to save your brother's reputation," I stated. "Why do I have a hard time believing that?"

"It's the truth."

"You didn't care too much about your brother when Mike told you he'd been killed."

"Your associate didn't give me the opportunity to grieve. He simply came in here like a Neanderthal and proceeded to create as much damage as possible while using very little brain function. It's a wonder that man can tie his own shoes."

I quickly reached out and grabbed Carolyn by the arm before she could inflict any damage.

I wanted to punch him just as much as she did, but I knew he was trying to provoke us.

He'd decided that he could probably get us arrested, too. He was on his turf, and he was playing to win.

We needed to keep cool heads if we were going to beat him.

And we _were_ going to beat him.

I stepped back from him and kept my grip on Carolyn.

"I hope like hell you're telling the truth," I told him as we headed for the door.

"Enjoy the view while you've got it," Carolyn added with a nod toward his window which overlooked Lake Michigan. "The one from Dixon isn't quite so pretty."

We left on that remark.

It was a nice parting shot, referring to Dixon State Correctional Facility, and it would certainly give Carver something to think about.

Whether or not he had anything to do with the murders or drug deals remained to be seen, but at the very least, he was acting in a manner unbecoming of a district attorney.

He could face possible disbarment, which would absolutely be the end of his campaign.

I hadn't come to this city to ruin him, but it looked like that was what was going to happen.

But he'd started it.

And that was fine.

Because I was going to finish it.

TBC...


	28. Chapter 28

**Ross POV**

* * *

We were all quiet as we walked to the police station. I knew that they were both worried about Alex and Carolyn. I was, too. Surely not to the same extent, but still…

I couldn't help but feel a little like a third wheel around these two. Although I couldn't complain, because they seemed to be very accepting of me.

In fact, it was almost like we were friends.

But being around them and their wives, even in such a dire situation, made me realize just how much I missed Liz.

I'd called her from the hospital waiting room while Goren had his procedure.

My phone had been on silent while we were at Miller's house which was probably the only reason why it survived. After Alex had made the call on it, Miller had put it in his pocket, but I'd claimed it from the hospital jail ward after I gave the pint of blood.

_The blood_.

I hadn't stopped to think about it at the time. I didn't weigh options or make any considerations. I simply thought that he might need it and I had it to give.

Logan had been disappointed that they wouldn't take more of his.

_More of his_.

The man had argued his way into giving two pints yesterday. _How much did he want them to take?_

Knowing his sense of loyalty, I had a feeling he would give every last drop if he could.

I wondered what it felt like to have a friend like that.

By the time I'd picked up my phone in the hospital, there were more than a dozen missed calls and most of them were from Liz. There were a couple from the commissioner, but I scrolled past those quickly.

Carolyn apologetically explained to me that she'd hurriedly called Liz to get my cell number and then no one had gotten back to her.

She'd been worried out of her mind.

"_Danny, what's going on out there?"_

"_Nothing. Everything is fine," _I'd assured her.

"_Then why did Carolyn sound panicked when she called me? She's always calm."_

"_They couldn't reach Alex on her phone,"_ I explained. _"And she was with me, so they needed to call my cell."_

"_Why couldn't they get Alex? Is she okay?"_

"_Liz, she's fine. I'm fine. Everyone is fine."_

"_I think maybe I need to come out there."_

"_No, we should be able to wrap this thing up today. Tomorrow at the latest."_

"_Are you sure? I can take a few days…"_

"_I'll call you back tonight. If it looks like it's going to take longer than another day, we'll talk more about you coming, okay?"_

"_Okay."_

I hadn't gotten into the hostage thing.

Or Goren's second procedure.

I would tell her the details when we all got back home, where she could see for herself that things were fine.

And as much as I would've loved to have her out here, I didn't want her to spend her evening on a plane, only to have to turn around and fly back home tomorrow.

"We need to scare him," Goren spoke up, jarring me from my thoughts.

"Cabbage?" Logan asked him.

"Yeah. When I talked to him earlier, he tried to intimidate me. When I went at him, he backed off and gave up some information."

"Shouldn't be too tough for Logan to scare him, looking like that," I remarked.

And then I had an idea.

We got to the police station, and after briefly checking in with Tom, we headed down the hall to the interrogation room.

I opened the door to let the other two in.

"Hey, yo, I been sittin' here for like an hour! Shit, what the fuck?" Cabbage yelled out when he saw us.

"Shut the hell up!" I yelled at him, stabbing my finger in the air in his direction.

Then I looked at Goren and Logan. I dropped my voice somewhat, but only to give the pretense of not wanting to be overheard.

"Now control that temper of yours, Logan. Do you hear me? We can't cover up another incident like last time."

"Hey, Boss, the guy was a sissy. How was I supposed to know his bones would break that easily?"

_Too much, Logan_, I thought.

But I glanced over his shoulder at Cabbage and saw that his face had visibly paled. I ducked my head, shaking it as though in annoyance with Logan, but I really just needed to hide a smile.

"I'll rein him in, Boss," Goren added.

"Yeah, well, you'd better," I concluded as I stepped outside of the room and pulled the door closed behind me.

Then I went into the observation room, and was surprised to find that Tom was in there.

"Is that how you do things in New York, Danny?"

"Every criminal is different," I replied with a shrug. He wasn't going to make me feel bad for our little show.

I turned and watched as Logan and Goren talked to each other in the interrogation room and ignored Cabbage completely.

"What are they doing now?" Tom asked me.

"They're letting him think about things for a minute. Just watch."

After another minute, Logan turned and walked over to where Cabbage sat at the table. He put his hands flat on the table and leaned down to catch him in the eye.

"_**My partner here says you tried to rough him up this morning,"**_ he said menacingly.

"_**Partner? Hey, you said you won't no cop!"**_

"_**We're not **_**Chicago**_** cops**_," Logan said. _**"And from now on, you only speak if you're answering one of his questions, got it? Cause your gang-banger drug-boss attitude don't mean shit to me. I'd just as soon kill you as look at you. And believe me, boy, I know where to hide the bodies. So I'm going to step aside, and my partner's going to ask you some questions. Are you feeling cooperative tonight?"**_

"_**Yeah, dude. Shit, whatever."**_

"_**Not **_**whatever.**_** Show some respect,"**_ Logan added, and then he shoved the table so that it pushed against Cabbage's midsection. _**"You know what respect is, right?"**_

"_**Yeah…yeah…uh huh,"**_ he stammered. _**"I mean, yes. Yes sir."**_

"_**There you go. Now that's what I like to hear. You keep that up and you'll be back to your cell in no time."**_

Logan stepped away and went to stand by the door. He played it to the hilt, keeping his stance wide and his arms crossed over his chest.

He didn't show it in his expression, but I knew he was getting a kick out of playing the heavy.

Now it was Goren's turn. He looked different than I was used to seeing him, considering he was wearing a doctor's scrub top and a sling rather than an expensive suit, but his demeanor was the same.

"This guy's the best," I told Tom proudly. As though I could stake any claim to him. He'd been the best when I met him, I just hadn't realized it.

Although now that I thought about it, maybe he hadn't been at the time. Maybe he'd grown into it, but even if that was the case, it certainly wasn't because of me.

"_**We had to cut our discussion short earlier. I have a few more questions**_," he began.

"_**And you had to bring your one-man goon squad with you?"**_ Cabbage asked in a loud whisper, as though he thought Logan wouldn't be able to hear. _**"Who is that dude anyway?"**_

"_**You don't want to know,"**_ Goren said dismissively. _**"Now, let's get the facts straight. I'm going to tell you what I know. And if I go off track, you're going to correct me. See how this is going to work?"**_

"_**Yeah, sure."**_

Logan cleared his throat loudly, and Cabbage was quick to add, **"**_**Yes sir."**_

"_**Good. Okay, Miller brings in the drugs from South America. He gives them to you and you sell them for him. He lets you keep a percentage of the profits. Am I good so far?"**_

"_**Yes sir."**_

"_**Great,"**_ Goren said.

He continued to pace in front of Cabbage and I was amused by the fact that the banger kept his eyes glued to Goren and then each time before speaking, he would flash his gaze over to Logan for a second.

"_**One of your boys, your **_**brother**_**, Mouse…I'm guessing that one day he was a little light on cash or product, one of the two. Miller didn't like the idea that he was skimming so he made an example out of him."**_

"_**Yeah, 'cept he wasn't,"**_ Cabbage spoke up.

"_**Mouse didn't steal from him?"**_

"_**No. He won't no thief."**_

"_**Just a dealer. And a banger."**_

"_**We got a code, man,"**_ Cabbage insisted. _**"The Mouse didn't steal."**_

"_**Okay, okay fine. So he didn't steal. But Miller thought he did?"**_

Cabbage didn't answer, and Goren swung his head around to look at Logan briefly, but then he gave a subtle shake of his head and kept going.

"_**We'll come back to that. Miller killed the Mouse. And that made you mad. So you killed Yoyo. Were Miller and Yoyo together for a long time?"**_

"_**You mean like a relationship? Dude, they was just scratchin' an itch, know what I mean?"**_

"_**Miller must have cared about him. Otherwise, why'd you kill Yoyo to get payback?"**_

Cabbage sat back and looked quickly around the room again.

"_**Yeah, okay,"**_ he said finally.

"_**Yeah, okay that's why you did it?"**_ Goren clarified. _**"Yeah, okay Miller and he were an item?"**_

"_**Both. Yoyo was always braggin' 'bout how Miller was gonna let him live with him in that big house. He was gonna get him off the streets. After Miller whacked the Mouse, I had to do something."**_

"_**Why didn't you just kill Miller?"**_

"_**I needed him. He had the connection."**_

"_**The drug connection."**_

Cabbage clammed up again, so Goren shifted gears.

"_**ADA Carver came to see you today."**_

"_**What?"**_

"_**You heard me. What did he want?"**_

"_**He's trying to put me away for murder."**_

"_**Right. And you didn't have your lawyer with you when you talked to Carver, so what did he say to you?"**_

"_**He wanted to talk about the Butcher."**_

"_**His brother."**_

"_**Yeah, right. His brother."**_

"_**What about him?"**_

"_**I don't wanna say."**_

Logan was across the room like a shot, shoving the table back into Cabbage. This time he pushed everything up against the wall: the chair with Cabbage in it, and then the table firmly against him.

"_**Now do you wanna say?"**_ he barked out. _**"Because I'm getting' bored just standing over there. If you're done talking, I can think of something else we can do."**_

Tom started to intervene, but I put my hand out.

"He's not going to hurt him. It's just a game," I assured him.

I held his gaze long enough to convince him and then we both turned back to the window. Logan had already released his hold on the table and returned to his spot by the door.

"_**We've got three questions on the table,"**_ Goren said calmly. _**"You give me honest answers to two of them, and we're done. And I'll be sure to let your new prosecuting attorney know that you were very helpful."**_

"_**New one? So Carver ain't gonna be coming back?"**_

"_**I don't think so, no."**_

"_**Damn, man! Why does this shit always happen?"**_

"_**What?"**_

"_**He offered me a deal."**_

"_**Carver? What kind of deal?"**_

"_**He said he'd let me plead to involuntary manslaughter and pull three to five."**_

"_**For Yoyo's murder? Why? In exchange for what?"**_

"_**He wanted me to leave his brother's name out of my…what do you call it? When I have to tell the judge what happened?"**_

"_**Allocution," **_Goren supplied. _**"He said that if you kept quiet about his brother being there at the time of the murder, then he'd sign off on the deal?"**_

"_**Yeah, uh huh! Yes sir!"**_

"_**Why? The Butcher didn't do anything wrong."**_

"_**Nah, man, but I caught Yoyo when he and the Butcher was arguing. That's how I got the drop on him."**_

"_**What were they arguing about?"**_

"_**Miller. The Butcher wanted a turn with him."**_

"So Carver was going to make an under-the-table deal with a murdering drug dealer in order to keep it out of the press that his brother was a coke-head male prostitute?" Tom asked me incredulously.

I was in a little bit of shock myself.

Although it was better than the alternative. At least Carver wasn't the drug kingpin.

"_**Okay, Cabbage, you're doing great. That was question number one. Give me the answer to one more, and we'll be done."**_

"_**Okay,"**_ he agreed.

"_**Why did Miller kill the Mouse?"**_

"_**You're gonna get me killed, man."**_

"_**Why? Miller's in custody. He's not coming after you."**_

"_**Yeah, but…but…shit,"**_ he said as he rubbed his cuffed hands over his face.

"_**Did the Mouse know something?"**_

"_**Yeah,"**_ he nodded finally. _**"Mouse overheard Miller talking. He found out who was running the show."**_

"_**And?"**_

"_**And nothing! You said one more question!"**_

"_**I need the whole answer, Cabbage!"**_ Goren said, slapping his hand down on the table. _**"I'm going to count to five and then I set my partner loose!"**_

"_**Stanley Wilmouth,"**_ Cabbage said when I'd silently reached the count of four.

"_**Who?"**_ Goren asked at the same time that I heard Tom mumble, "Oh my God."

"Who's that?" I asked Tom.

I watched my friend as he leaned against the window that separated the two rooms. He dropped his head, but then he looked up at me with dread and concern.

"He's the sitting DA."

TBC...


	29. Chapter 29

**Carolyn POV**

* * *

We beat the guys back to the hotel, so Alex and I sat down at the bar. We each ordered a dangerously potent drink, and we were quiet until the bartender placed them in front of us.

"He's hiding something. Something big," I said as I picked up my glass.

"I don't think he's running it," Alex replied after taking a hefty swig of vodka. "He wants to be the DA. He's worried about covering his ass. He's not a criminal, but I think he's gotten so caught up in grabbing for that brass ring that he's doing whatever it takes to make sure it happens."

She paused a moment and took another swallow, but then she continued.

"The Carver that I used to know would've never cut corners when it came to the law. In fact, he followed it annoyingly so. Him going to meet with Cabbage today, without the defense attorney present? That's a cardinal sin."

"I really wanted to hit him today," I remarked, changing the dynamic of our conversation. We could talk like investigators when the guys showed up.

Right now, I wanted to talk like friends.

"I know," she said with a smile. "I almost didn't stop you."

And the more I thought about the things he'd said about Mike, the madder I got. I didn't care that he'd looked at me like I was insignificant. It didn't bother me. But for him to suggest that Mike was somehow sub par in the intelligence department…

"We need to get him," I said vehemently. "I've had about all I can take of his attitude. We really need to cut his legs out from under him."

"Uh huh," she answered, and then she signaled for another drink.

"How can you sit there so calmly when you know what he's done? What he thinks of you, but even more, what he thinks of Bobby?" I asked, barely able to keep my voice down.

"And what he thinks about Mike and you," she added evenly.

"What?"

"I am angry. In fact, I'm so pissed off that I'm not sure what to do with myself right now. But I'm actually sitting here thinking that we're having a role reversal. Because usually you're the calm one."

"A lot of times, yes," I admitted.

And I was getting somewhat flustered because I knew that she was steering the conversation in a specific direction, but yet I was a half a step behind her.

"Not a lot of times," she argued. "All the time. Except for yesterday and today."

"I think I've had pretty damn good reason to be upset these past two days," I fired back indignantly.

"Ah, so you're…still out of the box," she said with a knowing grin.

"I'm…hell yes I'm out of the box," I replied. "I'm furious about the way Carver has handled this case, and about what has happened while we've been here, and I've been terrified for Bobby and for you…"

I stopped myself, but it was too late. I said it, and she heard it.

And just because I'd admitted it to myself and to Mike, that didn't mean that I planned on admitting it to them. Not any time soon, anyway.

"You said we'd talk later," she said softly. "This is later."

I'd wanted to talk like friends, but this was digging into more than I'd expected, and I started to have a minor anxiety attack.

"Relax," she told me, clearly sensing my unease. "You don't have to tell me everything. I don't need to know when you lost your virginity or whether or not you've ever smoked pot. I just thought we could _talk_."

Huh. Sharing _those_ things would be easy for me. I didn't have any trouble talking about things like that. Those types of things were superficial details.

Everyone had those experiences. Everyone could relate to the minor rebellions that were a natural part of life.

It's the nitty-gritty of what makes me who I am that's hard.

But I trust Alex. Of _course_ I do. That was part of my problem, right?

"I was sixteen," I said, deciding to ease into things with the clichéd topic. "I didn't love the guy. I didn't really care about him one way or the other. I was just ready to move past all the hype and get it over with."

She laughed at that, and I had to laugh with her.

"Move past the hype? Why does that not surprise me?" she asked.

"Well, you know, everyone was talking about it, and I don't know. I just didn't get what the big deal was."

"I know," she agreed, still chuckling. "I was seventeen. And it was the longest nine seconds of my life."

I hadn't expected her to make a joke, so I nearly spit tequila across the table.

I don't know why her sense of humor always catches me by surprise. Maybe it's because always she looks so serious, I don't know, but she can throw out one-liners with the best of them.

"Seventeen, huh?" I asked her. "So it wasn't Joe."

I knew some things about Joe. Not a lot, but enough to know that they'd met when she was in college. And that he'd been a jerk near the end of their marriage.

"No, it was this asshole that I dated for awhile. He kept putting on the full-court press until I finally gave in, and then he broke up with me."

"That sounds about right," I agreed.

"I get the big deal now, though," she said, suddenly serious. "About sex, I mean. Making love. I never imagined that being with someone can…feel like it does. I guess that probably sounds cheesy, huh?"

"No," I said quickly. I knew exactly what she meant. "No it doesn't."

We were both quiet for a minute. Several minutes, actually. A waitress came and we ordered another round.

"My family was in a car wreck fifteen years ago," I blurted out after our drinks were served. "I was supposed to have been with them, and I wasn't. They all died, and I didn't."

She didn't outwardly react to my declaration other than to maintain eye contact. I was grateful that she didn't start throwing platitudes at me, but instead was just going to listen.

So I talked. I told her the whole story, including the part I'd just confessed to Mike yesterday about why I'd been holding back with her and Bobby.

Surprisingly, it wasn't nearly as hard to talk about as I thought it would be.

So I also threw in the part about the fight that Mike and I had over it. I hoped it would lighten the mood a little, and it did.

"You said that to him?" she asked me. "I don't think I've ever said that to Bobby."

"You should," I encouraged. "It's quite liberating."

She laughed at that, as I'd hoped that she would. But she settled down quickly and took another sip of her drink.

"Seriously, it means a lot to me that you would tell me."

"I just didn't want you to think…I don't know. I wanted you to understand why maybe I'm not the best at showing…I mean…I…"

"Carolyn," she interrupted. "It's fine. You don't have to say anything. I've always been a firm believer that actions speak louder than words."

And for some reason, I got choked up. Me. That was twice in two days. Hell, a lot more than that in two days.

With everything that had happened, I was a damn Kleenex commercial waiting to happen.

I desperately tried to think of something that would ease that burning tightness in my chest, but I didn't need to. Alex did it for me.

She leaned across the table and gave me a mischievous look.

"So, let me tell you about the bet I made with Bobby a couple of weeks ago."

* * *

Bobby POV

We walked into the hotel restaurant and at first I didn't see them, even though I knew they were here somewhere.

Carolyn had sent Mike a text more than thirty minutes ago to say that they were here. They were a little early, and we were a little late, but that was fine.

We'd made headway in leaps and bounds, so now it was time to sort out what we needed to do.

But first, I just wanted to relax next to Alex.

I finally spotted them sitting in a booth near the back, and their heads were close together across the table. Alex was talking animatedly and Carolyn was laughing.

I chucked Mike with my elbow and pointed them out and then we headed in their direction.

Ross had made a stop by the front desk to pick up his room key. He'd called earlier on his drive up to Waukegan to make arrangements for the extra room.

"Don't stop on our account," Logan said as we approached the table. Alex stopped talking immediately.

"Girl talk. You'd be bored," she said with a smile as she slid over to make room for me. She'd chosen to sit on the side of the table that allowed me to keep my injured arm to the outside so that I didn't have to worry about bumping into her.

"How'd it go with Carver?" I asked.

"Nothing earth-shattering. You guys go first," Alex said, but not before she kissed me. And not a simple hello kiss, either.

It was one that promised…something. I was instantly intrigued, and yet my body was arguing that it had been put through the wringer lately.

Sleep was going to be a necessity, as was very little physical activity. Although maybe…

"Bobby," she interrupted quietly.

"Oh, yeah, sorry," I said hurriedly.

So Logan and I tag-teamed the recount of what had happened with Cabbage. Ross came back when we were only a short way into the story, so he jumped in as well, adding some amusing footnotes. Apparently he had enjoyed our interrogation technique.

"He gave him five seconds to give up a name, and it only took four before Cabbage was giving it up," Ross told them.

"You and your deadlines," Alex said with a smirk, and I knew she was thinking about how she'd lost the _double_ portion of our bet.

But then she cast a knowing glance toward Carolyn.

_What was that about? _

"So who is it?" Carolyn asked, biting back a smile.

"You're never going to believe this," Logan said. "The sitting DA."

"Carver's opponent? Are you kidding me?" Alex asked loudly. Carolyn was equally upset.

"So we take this guy down, and we've done Carver's dirty work for him. He'll be a shoo-in at the election. This is crap. What are we going to do?"

"We take them both down," I said simply. "Carver offered Cabbage a deal in order to keep his brother's name out of it."

"Who knows that besides Cabbage?" Alex asked.

"No one."

"So it's the word of an ADA against a felon. He's smarter than I like to give him credit for," Carolyn said.

And then Alex and Carolyn told what they had learned at Carver's office, which wasn't much.

I had a feeling that they were leaving out a few minor details.

I didn't think Alex would hold back if it was more talk of annulment, so I had to guess that Carver had been derogatory of Mike.

I hated guys like Carver. And as much as I hated him for me, I hated him even more for Mike.

I was going to make sure that Logan got a chance to bring the hammer down on Carver.

I didn't have to be directly involved to reap the benefits. The idea that he would never be the DA in this city or any other was enough for me.

We stopped talking shop, and instead ordered some dinner and took a moment to just breathe. It had been a whirlwind forty-eight hours, and I could feel my body getting closer and closer to shutting down. I had a feeling that once I put some food into it, I would just about be done.

Alex was tired, too. She couldn't hold my hand because I only had one available, but she kept her hand firmly on my thigh, and she kept her leg pressed tightly against mine.

I couldn't wait to get into the bed and just hold her with no fear of a nurse walking in on us. It had only been since Saturday night, but it felt like forever.

"Is there room here for one more?"

"Liz! What are you doing here?" Ross asked in surprise. I guess she hadn't told even him that she was coming. He immediately got up from his chair at the end of the table and gave her a hug.

"I was…already at the airport when you called. I didn't think it would hurt to come out here and see things for myself," she admitted.

Ross stepped away to grab another chair, and Liz looked around the table. I knew that we all looked like hell.

Well, at least me and Mike anyway.

Alex always looked beautiful to me, so I wasn't a very good judge. And Carolyn…she always looked good, too.

"I can't believe you flew all the way out here," Ross said as he held out the chair for her. She sat down and the waitress appeared behind her, so she ordered a drink.

"I was…concerned," she told us. "I don't know what kind of doctors they have here in Chicago."

"A little territorial, are we?" Mike asked her with a grin. "You know you can give me a check-up any time you want."

Liz's sharp-tongued reply was interrupted by Ross pulling out his phone. It must have been vibrating in his pocket.

He looked at it and then his face darkened.

"You have got to be kidding me," he said.

"What is it?" I asked him.

"A text from Tom. Cabbage is dead."

TBC...


	30. Chapter 30

**Alex POV**

* * *

We only stayed in the restaurant long enough to finish dinner.

The news of Cabbage's death had soured our mood. If we didn't have anyone to substantiate our claim of Carver's impropriety, then it was going to get swept under the rug.

This made convenient death number two for Carver.

Ross had called Coulter to find out the details. Cabbage had bled to death after being shivved in the jugular with the plastic casing of an ink pen. Supposedly, the proper authorities were looking into it, but at the moment, the perpetrator was unknown.

"How the hell could he be unknown?" Mike asked as we rode the elevator. "Cabbage would've bled all over the place."

"He did," Ross acknowledged. "Apparently that's the problem. He was in a group of about ten other prisoners who'd just come back from court appearances. They're all bloody and no one's talking."

Bobby was quiet during this time, and I had a feeling that he was on autopilot. I was anxious to get him alone so that I could offer up a little TLC, but we had to wait a few minutes longer because Ross' bag was still in our room.

"I'll just grab it and then get out of your way," he said apologetically.

"It's fine," I told him. We'd said our goodbyes to Mike and Carolyn a moment ago, and now the elevator was on the fourth floor. Ross' room was on this floor as well.

"I'd like to take a quick peek at that arm, if you don't mind," Liz spoke up to Bobby. "Just to make sure."

"Liz, he's fine," Ross argued.

"She can check," Bobby agreed. "It can't hurt."

So the four of us went into our room and Bobby sat down in the chair and took off his sling. He was still wearing the scrub top, so he was able to push the sleeve up out of the way to allow Liz access to the bandage.

"Oh, here," I said suddenly when I remembered that I still had Ross' gun in the back of my pants. I was so used to carrying that I hadn't even noticed it during dinner.

I handed him the gun, while Liz finished checking over Bobby.

"This is some nice work," she remarked. "I guess they do have decent doctors in Chicago."

"He seems like a good guy," I told her. "He's going to be there tomorrow just to follow up with Bobby. He's been working for at least thirty-six hours straight."

"So you're going over there in the morning?"

"Ross and I have to meet the HRT at the police station at nine, so…"

"The Hostage Response Team? What for?" she interrupted as she replaced Bobby's sling and then she crossed the room to stand with me and Ross.

"I…um…I'll tell you all about it," Ross told her, and then I felt bad. I hadn't realized that she didn't know. "Let's let these two get some rest."

"We'll meet at seven-thirty, down in the lobby," I said, grateful to Ross for corralling Liz. As happy as I was that she had come to join our little Chicago party, I was ready for down-time. "We can go by the hospital and then to the police station."

Ten minutes after they'd arrived, I got them back out of the room. I turned to where Bobby was still sitting in the chair, and he was out like a light.

I flipped on the light in the bathroom and pulled the door mostly closed, and then turned off the main light so that the room was in near-darkness.

I slipped out of my jacket and shoes and then went over to Bobby.

Just the sight of him had me overwhelmed with emotion. To think how close I'd come to losing him yesterday, and even again today…and yet here he was, sprawled in a too-small chair, sound asleep. His hair was a mess and he hadn't shaved since Sunday morning, but he was just the most handsome man I'd ever seen in my life.

Sometimes it was hard for me to reconcile that he was mine, that I had permission to touch him. I liked to tease Bobby when he made comments about how our life felt like a dream, but the truth was that I knew exactly what he meant. My relationship with him _did_ feel like a dream. It was something I'd wanted for so long and never thought I'd have, so I often had to remind myself that _this was real_.

I knelt down in front of him and pulled off his shoes and socks. He didn't even stir.

I then reached up and carefully undid his jeans, and attempted to work them off his hips. It was no easy task, and I realized that in his current position, it wasn't going to happen.

"Bobby," I whispered as I ran my hand over his cheek.

"Hmm?"

"Move onto the bed."

Grabbing a hold of his good hand, I helped him to his feet and then began to guide him towards the bed nearest the door. That was the one he liked to sleep in, but halfway there he stopped and shook his head.

"Uh uh. This one," he said as he sat down heavily on the other bed. He laid back and immediately closed his eyes again, even though his legs were still dangling off the end.

I had no idea why he wanted to change beds. His theory was that the bed nearest the door had the wall next to it and thus provided the best cover in case of a break-in.

Even in his trance-like state, he could still read my mind.

"Ross slept in that one," he said without looking at me. "Look at the lamp."

The bedside lamp had been shifted so that it pointed at the bed.

"That was a close call," I said with a smirk as I resumed my task of removing his pants. "I'm not sure if I would've ever recovered from knowing I'd slept in the same bed as Ross."

I heard a deep chuckle rumble through him.

"I could probably do that myself, you know," he told me softly as I continued to work his jeans off of him. "But it's a lot more fun having you do it."

"That's exactly what I was thinking," I replied.

I got his pants off, but I didn't want to attempt the shirt. It had been a challenge getting it on, but his other one had been ruined so Dr. Carter had offered this one and then had helped get it on.

Bobby had other ideas, though. He sat up and once again removed his sling.

"If you help me, I can get this shirt off, and then tomorrow I'll wear a button-down shirt. That'll be a lot easier."

He stiffly straightened out his arm, and then worked it back and forth gently.

"I've got a better idea," I said, because the last thing I wanted to do was cause him pain, and taking that shirt off was going to hurt.

So I went into the bathroom and got a pair of nail scissors from my toiletries kit, and then I came back and cut the shirt off of him.

"You're pretty handy to have around," he said once the shirt was in pieces on the bed.

"I'm glad you think so. Scoot back," I encouraged, and so then he shifted back in the bed until he could stretch out fully.

I sat next to him on his right side and carefully picked up his hand and then began massaging his fingers to help the blood flow.

"You're going to put me back to sleep if you keep doing that," he murmured as I ran my fingertips over his palm and down between each of his fingers.

"That's good. You need it."

"So do you. Get out of those clothes and lay down with me."

"I will in just a minute," I promised.

I continued to rub his hand for a while longer, and then I worked my way up his forearm.

I'd had my arm in a sling once. It was hard on the healthy parts to have to stay still while the injured parts healed.

"Ross had your back today, huh?" he asked me quietly, and he caught me off-guard because I'd thought he was back asleep.

"He did," I agreed. "He wanted to keep Miller's attention on him, and he even tried to get me to escape without him."

He chuckled again.

"And just when I think he knows us…"

"He's trying," I reminded him. "He asked about you."

"What did he want to know?"

By this time, I'd finished with his arm, so I carefully replaced the sling and then got undressed and slid into bed on Bobby's left side.

He wrapped his arm around me and I sighed contentedly.

This was where I'd been wanting to be all day.

"He wanted to know what I see in you," I said at last.

"He's baffled by it, isn't he? Everyone is, even me."

"It wasn't like that," I explained. "He wants to understand you. I think he looks up to you."

"What?"

"Really. When we were at Miller's house, it was like he was emulating you. And then tonight when you guys were telling what happened with Cabbage, did you hear the pride in his voice when he talked about it?"

"I…maybe, yeah. I just thought I was misinterpreting it."

"You weren't."

"So what did you tell him?"

"About what I see in you? I told him that I wanted to know what he thought. He was very complimentary of you."

"Did he get it right?"

"Yes and no."

"So you're not going to say?"

"Bobby, you know the answer. Don't say that you don't understand what I see in you. I know that you do."

He pulled me closer to him, and then began running his hand through my hair. I reached my hand up to rub his stubbly cheek.

"Yes, I do," he admitted. "I think that my brainwashing technique finally worked."

Despite the calm intimacy of the moment, his comment had me erupting in laughter.

"It wasn't that funny," he said, although he was laughing, too.

"It's just that Ross said something strangely similar about him and Liz," I told him.

We were quiet again, each reveling in the feel of holding the other.

His cat nap had probably served as a pick-me-up for his brain, so now it would take him awhile to go back to sleep. I was fine with that because even though he only had one hand, he was putting it to good use. He stroked my back, my hair, my face…

"Did you tell Carolyn about our bet?" he asked me.

"Nothing specific. She was…having a moment. I wanted to help her get past it, so I told her that we'd made a sexual bet about my locker combination, and then that we'd gone double or nothing over you getting a confession. But I didn't explain the terms."

"Did it work? Did it help her get past it?"

I liked that he didn't ask me what it had been about.

He appreciated the fact that while we mostly told each other everything, when it came to Mike and Carolyn we were both going to respect their privacy.

I knew things about Mike that I wasn't going to tell Bobby. And he may or may not already know them, but unless Mike said that it was okay to talk about them, then I wasn't.

And now I knew things about Carolyn, too.

"Yeah, I think so. Although she told me I was crazy to take the bet."

"The first one or the second one?"

"Either. Both."

"What did you say?"

"I said that making those kinds of bets with you was always win-win."

I shifted up in the bed so that I was closer to the headboard than he was, and then I moved his head to rest against my chest. I held him close and ran my fingers through his hair. In the morning, I'd have to help him wash his hair in the sink because he still wouldn't be able to shower, but we'd work it out. I was just so, so grateful…

"What are we going to do about Carver? With Cabbage out of the picture, he's going to skate," he said.

"We can still make our statements. You and Mike heard Cabbage's statement about Carver. Hell, Ross and Coulter heard it, too. Two police captains and two retired cops making the same statement have to mean something."

"But we'll be taking down Carver's competition, too. Even if his numbers take a hit, it's tough to lose when there's no opponent. If we can't get him disbarred, he's still going to win."

"Maybe we can talk him into withdrawing his name from the ballot."

"Honey, I don't think even you can do that. And you know I think you can do just about anything."

"He was pretty worried today when Carolyn threatened to call the newspaper."

"He's doing a balancing act. He's trying to figure out how much he can get away with and yet still win the office."

"So let's tip him off the tightrope. What he's been doing is not only immoral and contemptible, but it also goes against his oath of office. He withheld evidence from the police, he tried to make an underhanded deal, he manipulated witnesses…"

"Alex," Bobby said quietly. I was getting all worked up.

"I know," I sighed. "I'm sorry. He just…um…he really gets under my skin."

"We'll get him," he said firmly. "One way or another."

TBC...


	31. Chapter 31

**Liz POV**

* * *

I wasn't old enough to feel like everyone's mother, but for some reason, I did.

Well, not Danny of course, but everyone else.

When Carolyn called me for Danny's number, her voice was filled with concern. She almost sounded borderline hysterical.

If she hadn't identified herself, I probably wouldn't have even recognized her.

And then when I gave her the number, she hung up. My mind had been off and running on what could be going on.

Because Carolyn never panicked.

And even though I liked her a lot, she didn't call me often. If the four of them were together, Alex usually called.

So I added that tidbit into my pot of worry and things went from bad to worse.

And after I made not one, but two mistakes while examining the latest corpse to find its way onto my table, I decided to hang up my scalpel for the day.

If no one was going to tell me what was going on, then I was going to find out for myself.

Just because I wasn't a cop, didn't mean that they could keep me in the dark.

I'd had a bag packed and was at the airport by the time Danny finally called me.

"_Nothing. Everything is fine," _he'd said quickly when I asked what was going on.

But I knew that tone of voice.

And I knew how Carolyn had sounded, too, so I mentioned that.

"_They couldn't reach Alex on her phone,"_ he'd explained. _"And she was with me, so they needed to call my cell."_

All that explanation had done was given me more questions.

"_Why couldn't they get Alex? Is she okay?"_

He'd insisted that they were all fine. I told him I was flying out to meet him, but he'd put me off.

"_No, we should be able to wrap this thing up today. Tomorrow at the latest."_

I got the feeling that things were more hairy than he was admitting. And I wasn't going to sit at home and twiddle my thumbs while my husband and my closest friends were halfway across the country, getting into trouble.

I also wasn't going to argue about it.

So when Danny told me to wait, I agreed.

"_Okay," _I'd told him.

And then I'd picked up my boarding pass from the ticket desk and walked through the airport to find my gate.

I'd arrived in Chicago at a little after seven o'clock. I knew which hotel they were staying at because Danny had mentioned it the night before when he'd called.

_When I'd talked him into having phone sex_, I remembered with a smile.

I still couldn't believe he'd gone through with it. The man was definitely loosening up.

So I'd gotten a cab from the airport and arrived at the hotel at just before eight.

I'd planned on calling Danny once I got to this point, but as I passed the entrance to the restaurant, I could hear laughter that I recognized as Mike.

I looked inside the restaurant and saw the five of them immediately. Danny was sitting at the end of the booth, but he seemed very much a part of the group.

I felt my heart swell a little at the idea that the others seemed to be accepting him into their inner circle.

He was a good guy.

He could be worthy of them if they gave him a chance. And it looked like they were.

"Is there room here for one more?" I asked.

"Liz! What are you doing here?" Danny asked as he hopped up from his seat. He wrapped his arms around me and I realized just how much I'd missed him.

It had only been a day, and sometimes we worked long, miserable hours that kept us apart for longer than that, but this time it seemed different.

"I was…already at the airport when you called. I didn't think it would hurt to come out here and see things for myself," I admitted honestly. I wasn't about to go through the exercise of making up some lame excuse.

Danny grabbed me a chair, and I got a good look at everyone else.

And this was where that mothering instinct kicked in. Like I said, it was ridiculous, because I wasn't even ten years older than the youngest of them, but still…I felt protective.

Mike looked like it hurt him to even breathe. I could only see his face and his hands, but nearly every bit of skin visible on him was colored in some fashion.

Bobby didn't appear quite so damaged, but he did have some road rash along the side of his face and his arm was in a sling. His skin was paler than normal, and he looked ready to fall asleep at the table.

Alex and Carolyn seemed fine physically, but they were clearly overtaxed emotionally. If I didn't know better, I'd think that Carolyn had been crying recently, but I wasn't sure. I couldn't picture her expressing such emotion.

"I can't believe you flew all the way out here," Danny said as he held out the chair for me. I sat down and gave the waitress my drink order.

Double shot of bourbon on the rocks. What can I say? It had been a long day.

I'd only been sitting for a minute when Danny got the text from his old buddy Tom Coulter.

Some guy named Cabbage had been killed.

Danny called Tom to get details while the other four filled me in. I got the feeling that they were glossing over some of the details, but I would hit Danny up for the rest of the information later.

Right now, it looked like everyone was exhausted, so we got through dinner and then went upstairs.

We were on the same floor with the Gorens, but Danny's bag was still in their room, so we followed them down the hall.

I convinced Bobby to let me take a quick look at his arm. I thought he still looked exceptionally pale, and I didn't want there to be any bleeding that was going unnoticed.

It only took a few minutes, and before long, I had Danny alone in our hotel room.

"I can't believe you came," he told me as he pulled me into his arms again. "But I'm so glad you did."

I'd been getting ready to lay into him about withholding information from me, but the sound of his voice made me hold my tongue.

Sort of.

Okay, so not really at all, but it did make me use a softer tone.

"What happened, Danny? You and Alex were held hostage?"

"It only lasted a little more than an hour. We were never really in any danger."

"Danny, don't lie to me. You don't have to protect me. I know the realities of life probably better than just about anyone," I reminded him.

"Come on. Let's get comfortable and then I'll tell you everything."

We got changed and turned out the lights and climbed into bed. I settled up against him, and then without further prompting, he began to talk. He told me everything that he knew, including everything he'd been thinking while he was in the house with Alex.

It scared me to think that he had put his life on the line in an effort to keep Alex safe, but I realized that she had done the same thing for him.

By not running when he told her to, by instead staying to fight, she had saved him.

There was no way that .22 would've been any kind of match for a Tec-9.

"I only didn't tell you before because I didn't want to say it on the phone," he told me when he finished his story. "I wanted you to be able to see for yourself that I was okay."

"I get it. But don't do that again," I told him gently.

"I won't," he replied, squeezing me tighter against him. "I had an interesting talk with Alex today. On our drive up to Waukegan."

"Yeah? What did you talk about?"

"I asked her what she saw in Goren…"

"You did not!" I interrupted. "Danny, I can't believe you would ask her that!"

"I didn't say it in a bad way," he insisted. "I was just curious. She was fine with it."

"What did she tell you?" I asked. I was glad that Alex had seen his question for what it was.

"She wanted to know what I thought."

I smiled at that, sure that it had thrown him for a loop when she'd suggested it.

"So I told her. I think I was partly right, but then she gave me the rest of the reasons. I'm sure she said more than she meant to."

"She wants you to understand him. She wants you to see what she sees."

"Yeah, well I guess she wants to see what you see, too."

"What?"

"She asked me what you see in me."

"She wanted to know why I'm with you?" I asked in confusion. "Why would she ask that? Are you sure she didn't mean it the other way around?"

"I'm sure," he chuckled. "Because that's what I thought, too. But she said she understood what I see in you. She couldn't figure out why you're with me."

"Danny," I said softly, my heart going out to him.

He was trying so hard to see these people as _people_ rather than as his detectives. It was a tough transformation to make.

"No, it's okay," he said. "Because it got me thinking about it. And I realize that I have no idea."

"No idea of what?"

He was quiet, and I thought back over what he'd said.

_He had no idea what I saw in him_.

That right there was one of the reasons.

He was humble.

He may not always act like it, but deep down, he had some insecurities about himself.

He projected an image at work, one of confidence and arrogance and self-suffiency.

These qualities made him good at his job.

But at home, he was different.

He'd had a wife who had cheated on him and ultimately left him.

And something that not many people knew was that he'd had another wife before Nancy.

They'd gotten married straight out of college and it lasted six months before she left him claiming that the whole thing had been a mistake.

So I was wife number three, but who's counting?

For awhile, I hadn't thought that he would ever come around. After the first wife and then Nancy…well, he'd thrown himself completely into his work. He seemed to think that was the only thing he was good at.

So it was ironic that people wondered what I saw in him.

_Something, _that was for sure.

Because he hadn't pursued me. I'd chased after him.

Not like a school girl with a crush. That wasn't my style.

But I was persistent.

And I didn't take no for an answer.

Because I saw something good in him, something honorable and dependable, and the more I got to know him, I saw even more.

His sense of humor, and his intelligence.

And his vulnerability. I didn't think he could handle having his heart broken again.

So I'd vowed, to him and myself, that I never would.

"You want to know why I love you?" I asked him.

"Only if you want to tell me," he answered.

"You make me happy," I said simply. "And that's a tough job, so you must be doing something right."

* * *

Logan POV

I felt a damn sight better waking up today than I had yesterday. I was still sore. Quite a bit actually. But I was still _better_.

And getting eight hours of sleep had probably had something to do with it.

It also didn't hurt that I'd gotten a considerable amount of attention from Carolyn last night. She'd been especially amorous, which considering our day, had taken me somewhat by surprise.

I'd stopped to lock the door, and as soon as I'd turned around, she was on me.

"How do you feel?" she asked me as she ran her hands up my chest and then grabbed onto my shirt. She took a step into me so that I was effectively pinned in.

_As if I'd try to escape._

Fat chance of that.

"I'm feeling pretty damn good right about now," I told her. And I did. She was pressed up against me, and her lips were moving over my neck in a way that just drove me crazy.

"I mean, are you…up for it?" she asked again.

"You keep doing that and I'll be up for anything you want," I replied. I ran my hands down her back and then back up again, grabbing onto the collar of her jacket and giving it a gentle tug. "Take this off."

She stepped back from me and quickly shed her jacket.

And everything else.

And then she gave me a look that instantly took me from very aroused to ready to blow my top.

She was in some kind of mood tonight.

I hadn't seen her quite this frisky since…the last time she'd had drinks with Alex. Damn, I was definitely going to have to get them together more often if this was the end result.

"What do you girls talk about?" I asked her, not considering that she'd had no clue as to the path my mind had taken.

She stepped into me again and began pulling at my jacket.

"Are you talking about Alex while I'm ripping your clothes off of you? I must not be doing something right," she teased.

"Sweetheart, you are doing everything right," I groaned as she whipped my belt from its loops.

I leaned my head back against the door and willed my body to let my mind stay in control for just a little while longer.

But she was too damn good. When she set her mind to something, then whatever got in her way was in some serious trouble.

In this case, it was my control.

She'd wanted me to lose it, and she'd gotten her wish...

"Feeling better this morning?" Carolyn asked me, pulling me from my recall of last night's encounter. Which was perfectly fine with me, because this morning was no hardship either. She was lying with her back to me, flush up against my front, and I had my arm around her waist.

"How could I not?" I asked her.

She didn't respond for a minute and I wondered if she was going to talk about it. Not that I had a problem with her overzealousness from the night before, but I was curious as to what had sparked it.

Maybe then I could make sure it happened again.

"You were right. Last night," she began. "When you mentioned Alex. I think it was my talk with her that got me started."

"Okay," I replied easily, and then I leaned down and kissed her shoulder before moving my way up to the back of her neck.

"I told her. About everything. I think it helped."

"You told her about your family?" I hadn't expected that. I had hoped that she would progress that far one of these days, but I hadn't thought it would happen so quickly.

"Yeah. It was…therapeutic. Freeing. I think she'd wondered why I've been holding back. I guess I wasn't as inconspicuous about it as I thought."

"Everyone does things in their own time, sweetheart," I said quietly as she turned in my arms so that she could look at me.

"This has been an emotional couple of days for me," she admitted. "I'm usually so self-sufficient, but on this trip, everyone has been in danger except for me and yet it was worse for me emotionally than if it _had_ been me. Am I making sense? I don't even know if I'm making sense to myself."

"You're making perfect sense," I assured her. I leaned over to capture her lips briefly. "Give it time," I whispered. "It's new for me, too, but it's starting to come naturally now."

The alarm chose that moment to start ringing, so we reluctantly left the sanctity of the warm bed.

"You go shower and I'll make the coffee," she said, and the she looked back over her shoulder and gave me a seductive smile.

"I'll be sure to go slow."

We got down to the lobby at seven-twenty. Ten minutes early, and yet the other four were already there.

"We've got an idea about Carver," Goren said when we approached.

"I've got a few ideas myself," I replied with a grin.

I was glad to see that he'd gotten some of his color back this morning. In fact, it looked like everyone had benefited from a full night's sleep.

"We'll go to the precinct," Ross said, looking at me and Carolyn. "I want to give Tom our statements about Cabbage's declaration. We need to document what he said about Carver as well as what he said about the DA. Hopefully the cops will be able to get some evidence to back up the DA's involvement."

"I'll go to the hospital with Alex and Bobby," Rodgers spoke up. "And then we'll meet you all at the police station in time for the meeting with HRT."

"What are we going to do with Carver?" I asked curiously.

Goren looked at me and nodded determinedly.

"I'm going to get him to confess."

TBC...


	32. Chapter 32

**Bobby POV**

* * *

I woke up thinking about Carver, and that was something I really needed to quit doing.

But I wanted payback on him in the worst kind of way, and this latest turn of events was throwing a wrench in my plans.

"I wonder if he knows," Alex mumbled against my chest.

It was six o'clock and we still had thirty minutes before the alarm was set to ring. I hadn't realized that she was awake, but it didn't surprise me.

It also seemed natural that she was thinking about the same thing that I was.

"About Cabbage? I don't know. He does if he's the one who set it up."

"He didn't set it up."

"Can you be sure about that?"

She hesitated, her hand paused from its stroking motion over my chest.

"No," she admitted.

And then her hand started up again as she continued to talk.

"But if I had to bet on it, I'd say it's Wilmouth. Carver was smug with me and Carolyn yesterday. When he told us about his conversation with Cabbage, he fully expected that we believed him. He wasn't worried about it, so why have him killed? Wilmouth is probably in full panic mode right now. I'd bet that the arrest of Miller triggered this. Wilmouth decided to clean house."

"We'll have to keep Miller in protective custody as soon as he's released from the hospital. He should be safe in there, but once he's moved to the jail, he'll be fair game."

"Good idea. We'll talk to Ross about that when we see him."

"So what was your point?" I asked her. "About wondering if Carver knows?"

"If he doesn't know, maybe we can catch him."

"You mean pretend like we still have him to testify against Carver?"

"Something like that. I'm thinking that we wire you up. If anyone can annoy him enough to make him confess, it's you."

"I'm not sure how to take that," I said in mock offense. I could feel her smile against my chest.

"I'm saying that maybe he doesn't like you," she teased. "Maybe because you stole his potential wife before he had a chance to make an offer."

"Well, there you go. That's how I can get him."

"How?"

"I'll offer you up as a trade. His confession for a wife. What do you think?"

I could hardly get the words out of my mouth before she sat up in objection.

"I can't believe you'd even say that! If you weren't already injured, I'd…"

"You'd what?" I asked invitingly, enjoying the view that I had of her now.

She was bare to the waist, so I reached my hand out and ran it slowly from her collar bone down to her hip.

Her expression changed from indignation to interest with just the touch of my hand.

Damn, and to think about all those times she'd gotten mad at me at work…if only I'd known that I might could've calmed her down just by touching her.

And then I smiled at my outrageous thought, because I knew perfectly well that she hadn't really been mad just now.

And if I'd ever touched her back then during a moment of true anger, I would've probably gotten clocked.

"What are you smiling at?" she asked, although she smiled, too as my hand made the return trip and then continued further upwards to cup her jaw.

"I'm just thinking about how much I love you," I told her as I moved my thumb along her cheek.

"So much that'd you offer me to Carver, huh?" she retorted.

But as she said the words, she pushed the covers off of me. She put her hand on my knee and then lightly trailed her fingers up the inside of my thigh.

"I…I…um…"

It was astounding to me how quickly she could turn the tide.

I'd thought that I was in control of this playful seduction but suddenly I wasn't.

Or maybe I never was.

"You were saying?" she asked as she wrapped her fingers around me.

I let out a long breath

"I have no idea," I admitted as she continued to move her hand over me. I urged her forward, needing to feel her against me.

I hated only having the use of one hand. Hell, two hands weren't even enough when it came to Alex.

I wanted to touch her everywhere, all at once.

"I need you," I whispered to her as she eased down to kiss me.

"You've got me," she replied as her lips moved against mine.

She took her time, kissing me everywhere, stroking me everywhere, making me feel like I was ready to burst into flames from the inside out.

And just when I thought that it couldn't get any better, she shifted across my hips and slowly settled herself down onto me, taking me in completely.

Both of my hands moved without conscious thought and pain shot through my right arm as the sling halted the motion.

I couldn't stop the sharp intake of breath.

"Are you okay?" she asked worriedly.

"Uh huh," I mumbled. "Don't stop." I didn't _ever_ want her to stop.

"Just be still," she murmured. Then she leaned over and kissed me sweetly before pulling back fractionally to whisper, "Let me love you."

So I did.

Miraculously, we made it to the lobby fifteen minutes ahead of schedule.

Considering our lengthy love-making session, along with my inability to wash my own hair or completely dress myself, we were both impressed by our punctuality.

Liz and Ross were waiting, but Mike and Carolyn hadn't come down yet.

"You both look so much better," Liz remarked when we approached.

For some reason, her knowing look caused me to blush.

"Thanks," Alex said. "It's amazing what eight hours of sleep will do for you."

"Can you find out if Cabbage's death has been made public yet?" I asked Ross.

"I'll make a call," Ross said as he pulled out his phone.

My mouth nearly fell open at the realization that he was going to find out the answer for me without first asking me questions.

I never thought I'd see the day.

Alex had said that he was trying, and clearly he was.

Not to mention the fact that I owed him for having her back at Miller's yesterday.

I almost felt bad about having told Alex not to trust him, but not really. He hadn't proven himself at that point.

Now maybe he had.

"How's the arm this morning?" Liz asked me while Ross was on the phone.

"Better. The outside of the bandage is still clean," I told her before she could ask. She gave me a grin, and then turned to Ross as he came back to the group.

"They kept it quiet," he told us. "The guards on transport duty, the ME, the ten other inmates, and Tom. They haven't even told Freeman's lawyer yet. I told him to keep it that way as long as he could."

"Good," I replied, giving Alex a nod.

I heard talking from the hallway, and looked up to see Mike and Carolyn coming into the lobby.

"We've got an idea about Carver," I told them.

"I've got a few ideas myself," Mike replied with a grin.

I knew what his ideas would entail.

And it was so damn tempting to just let him take over.

But I wasn't about to let him go to jail, especially when I knew that most of his anger was based on what Carver had done to me and Alex rather than what he'd done to Mike.

Without much discussion, it was decided that Ross, Mike and Carolyn would go to the precinct while Liz, Alex, and myself would go to the hospital. Hopefully the check-up would be quick and then we'd meet the others at the police station.

"What are we going to do with Carver?" Mike asked me as we left the hotel.

I wasn't going to go into details yet, mostly because I hadn't worked them all out in my head.

But I knew the bottom line.

"I'm going to get him to confess."

**

* * *

**

Ross POV

When we got to the police station, Tom was in his office with the door closed.

"Give me a minute, guys, okay?" I asked the other two. They looked at each other and shrugged and then held back while I went up to knock on Tom's door.

"Come in!" Tom shouted. He was clearly having a bad day already.

I went in his office and closed the door.

"What's going on?" I asked him as I sat down in the chair across from his desk.

"It's a cluster fuck, Danny, that's what it is. The goddamn DA? Do you know how much backlash this is going to cause? Do you have any idea?"

"I think I've got some idea, yeah," I remarked drolly.

Now probably wasn't the best time to mention how slammed our department was after the downfall of our Chief of D's.

"I put four guys on this to see what kind of evidence they could dig up."

"And?" I asked.

I could only hope that they'd found something because I didn't know if Miller would talk or not, and since Cabbage was dead…

"Nothing," he stated. I sagged back against my chair in annoyance. "Until an hour ago," he added with a grin.

"You son of a bitch," I said good-naturedly as I stood up to grab the papers from his outstretched hand.

My eyes greedily scanned the report, and took note of the penciled-in remarks and highlighted areas.

"Are you kidding me?" I asked in disbelief. "He bought a no-name cell phone with cash, but then he refilled it with minutes using his credit card?"

"What can I say? He's an arrogant bastard. He probably thinks he's untouchable."

"I doubt his cell mates will think so," I mumbled. "So you got him. How are you going to play this out?"

"I hand-picked an ADA to get me the warrant. It's all on the QT. Once that comes in, which should be any time now, I'll take a few of my guys over there to his house to pick him up."

"His house? He won't be at his office?"

"He has Tuesday mornings off," he replied sarcastically. "I'm guessing that's when his drug shipments usually come in."

"Miller did say that he was waiting on someone last night," I said thoughtfully. "Wilmouth is probably spending his time off this morning trying to figure out how to kill Miller. You've got someone keeping an eye on him, right?"

"Yeah, it's been taken care of. You know, that disposable cell number appears on Miller's call logs over two hundred times just in the past year. They've been working this game for awhile."

"This ties him to Miller, but what else do you have? He can always say that he didn't know Miller was a dealer."

"Look at the ones highlighted in blue," he said, pointing his finger back at the paper. "Those are texts. We're getting the full printout on those as we speak."

"He sent text messages to a drug dealer," I stated, shaking my head. "What an idiot. He deserves to be caught."

"You guys are up to something," Tom said with a nod of his head towards his window. I turned and looked out to see Mike and Carolyn both looking antsy.

"I need another favor," I told him.

"I had a feeling."

"If this one goes as planned, then we'll get out of your city by tonight," I added with a smile.

"Yeah, but will my city ever recover from Danny Ross and his boys?"

I chuckled at his insistence at calling the others my boys.

"You've met Carolyn, haven't you? And Alex?" I asked him.

"I did, briefly."

"Just wondering. Call them _my boys _to their faces and see what happens. I'll be sure to have my camera ready."

He laughed with me for a minute, but then we got back to business.

"I need some time with Carver," I told him. "Goren thinks he can get a confession out of him. And since all we have is affidavits as to what Cabbage stated, I think we really need a confession. Carver will have a field day with an unsubstantiated claim made by a dead drug dealer. He'll walk, and with Wilmouth on the outs, Carver will be your new DA."

At Tom's silence, I continued.

"Look at Logan out there. That happened because of Carver. Your officer said it, yeah, but it was because he wanted to please Carver. Is that the kind of man you want in your DA's office?"

"You think I can't get Carver with my own men?"

"I'm asking you to give us a shot at him first. We'll wire Goren up and see what happens. Worst case, he admits to nothing, but you're no worse off than you were before."

"He's not going to try to rough him up, is he?"

"He's got one arm."

"Logan's not going in with him."

"No. He'll either go in alone or with Alex."

"Okay," he agreed. "But then we're even, Danny."

I stuck out my hand and we shook on it.

"I'll get you guys some communication devices while you deal with HRT. They'll be here in about half an hour. Is Alex coming in?"

"Yeah, she should be here by then. We'll take care of our statements and then see what we can do about Carver. When will you be arresting Wilmouth?"

"Should be soon. This morning, definitely."

"Hold off as late as you can. I don't want Carver knowing about any of this before Goren gets the chance to talk to him. The ADA you used…he'll keep it quiet?"

"Yes _she_ will," he countered.

I left Tom in his office and corralled the Logans into a conference room.

"Did he go for it?" Logan asked me.

"What do they have on Wilmouth? Anything?" Carolyn questioned.

"Yes and yes," I told them with a smile. I knew they were both anxious to get the show on the road. "They're getting an arrest warrant on Wilmouth right now and they're keeping it under the radar."

"And he gave Goren his blessing to try to pin down Carver?"

"He's even getting us some com devices to use."

Logan looked at Carolyn and then back at me. He had a huge grin on his face.

"This is going to be good."

TBC...


	33. Chapter 33

**Alex POV**

* * *

We were in and out at the hospital, fast-tracked by the accommodating Dr. Carter.

He complimented Bobby on his healing abilities, which elicited a chuckle from Bobby.

"Is that something that I can control?" he asked.

"Well, you weren't chest-bumped by a suspect this time, right?" Dr. Carter retorted.

"Good point."

"So, are you sensing the pattern here?" the doctor asked Bobby with a grin as he walked us out of the exam room. "Physical confrontation – you pass out and end up back here. No physical confrontation – you get a clean bill of health."

He must have caught the pointed look I gave to Bobby at his mention of _no physical confrontation_, because he started laughing and reiterated that he keep everything low key.

"So did you use a vertical or horizontal mattress?" Liz asked him as he continued to walk with us. "You went with synthetic, right? Did you coat the sutures with an antimicrobial substance?"

I shook my head at Liz's incessant questions, but Dr. Carter answered them all and seemed to appreciate her enthusiasm.

"She sounds like you," I teased Bobby as he took a hold of my hand.

"What?"

"Don't deny it. You already asked those questions, didn't you?"

"I'm waiting to see if she gets around to asking about the topical cyanoacrylate," he admitted with a grin.

I laughed at how easily I'd had him pegged.

_Of course_ he'd already asked. He couldn't help himself. He was fascinated with the advancements of modern medicine, but I didn't expect anything less from him.

"Liz, are you ready?" I asked her as we stood out in the ambulance bay.

"Yeah, just one more…were you able to suture in combination with topical cyanoacrylate? Because I've found that…"

"Come on," Bobby said to me as he tugged me toward the El stairs. "She'll notice that we're gone in a few minutes. She'll catch up."

And she did.

Twenty minutes later, we were at the police station and I was thrilled to hear that we'd been given the green light to go after Carver.

I couldn't wait until me and Bobby could take him down.

But first I had to deal with HRT.

"I'm not mentioning the gun," I told Ross quietly as the six of us waited in the conference room.

"I don't want you to lie for me," he countered.

"Okay, well then if they ask me point blank whether or not you had an unauthorized .22 strapped to your ankle, I will say yes. Otherwise, there's wiggle room."

"Is this how she acted prior to meetings with me?" Ross asked Bobby with a wry grin.

"I'm not going to say anything," he answered wisely.

"Ross, they don't need to know. You caught Miller's attention, I lunged for him, we both managed to wrestle the gun away from him. At some point during the struggle, he got hit with the gun a few times."

"It's that simple?"

"I think so, yes. That's the condensed version of the truth. We're not the criminals," I reminded him. And then I looked at him quizzically and added, "Didn't you ever get into trouble?"

"Yes he did," Coulter said as he came into the room. "Regularly."

"Hey, now don't be telling stories on me," Ross argued.

"No, go ahead. Tell stories," Mike spoke up.

"HRT is here," Coulter said, looking at me and Ross. "You two need to go down the hall. They're in the two interrogation rooms on the right."

I caught Bobby's eye as I got up from the table.

I was a little worried, despite my bravado.

I hated getting pulled into these types of things. I hated being at the mercy of whatever kiss-ass officer was assigned to the investigation. He could either be honest or he could be bucking for a promotion.

Either way, I just hoped that it would go quickly.

And it did.

"What brought you to the home of Van Miller?"

"We believed he had information about the identity of Derek Carver's killer."

"And why didn't you turn over this lead to the police rather than go yourselves?"

"I don't need special permission to ask questions. I was simply fact-gathering. If anything panned out, I would've then turned over my information to the proper authorities."

"What happened after you arrived at the house?"

And so it went. I took him through each step up until the point where Ross had pulled his gun.

"Captain Ross managed to get Miller focused on him. I was able to take Miller down to the ground at which point between Captain Ross and myself we were able to disarm him."

"And then Ross beat the shit out of him," the officer stated.

He leaned back in his chair with a smug look on his face.

"Isn't that what happened?" he asked. "Ross was upset about being held hostage and he went off on the guy?"

"No, that's not what happened."

"It's not? Are you sure?"

I couldn't believe my luck that they'd assumed it was Ross. If he'd asked me straight up whether or not I'd beaten Miller, I would've said yes.

"I'm positive."

"Do you want to explain it to me then?"

"You want me to explain to you how a murdering drug dealer who was holding a cop and an investigator hostage with a Tec-9 managed to get his face a little bloody while he was being overtaken. Really? That's your question?"

My suggested idiocy of the inquiry served its purpose.

"I think we're done here, Mrs. Goren. I appreciate your cooperation. Please make sure that Captain Coulter knows how to get in touch with you in case we have any further questions."

I left the interrogation room and went back to the conference room. Ross was already there.

"That was fast, huh?" I asked him.

"I don't think they were too concerned."

"Coulter brought us com devices," Bobby said, holding up an ear bud. "We can get miked up and then head over to Carver's office."

"We've been talking about how to do this," Carolyn said. "We think you and Bobby should go in and the rest of us will wait outside. We'll be recording the conversation, so all you have to do is getting him to say the words."

"Sounds simple enough," I said understatedly.

"I called over to his office," Mike spoke up. "I wanted to check his schedule. He had an appointment at nine-thirty that should keep him out of the office for about an hour."

I looked down at my watch. It was nine forty-five.

"How'd you find all of that out?" Ross asked him.

"It's not a stretch to figure that Carver treats his secretary like crap," Mike said with a shrug. "A little sweet-talking goes a long way."

"If we can get over there in the next half an hour, we can probably talk our way into his office," Bobby said to me. "I like the idea of catching him off-guard."

I felt my heart start racing as I locked onto his eyes.

And not in a sexual way.

In an adrenaline-pumping about-to-take-down-the-bad-guy way.

This was where me and Bobby were at our best.

I gave him a nod and then went about getting both of us ready with the mikes.

"I promised Coulter that you guys wouldn't rough him up," Ross told us.

"I won't touch him," Bobby said.

"It's not you that I'm worried about," he retorted.

I looked up from fiddling with Bobby's ear piece and found that Ross was pinning me with a stare.

"I…will only touch him…if I have to defend myself," I managed to say. I wasn't going to rule anything out.

"Is that another one of your creative replies?"

"It's all you're going to get."

**

* * *

**

Carver POV

I arrived at my office early on Tuesday morning.

Of course, I arrived early most every day. I had no tolerance for those who were unwilling to work toward their goals, and that didn't just mean working from nine until five.

Most of my days began at five a.m. and ended by eleven p.m.

I did have to allow for six hours of sleep each night.

Because I'd read the studies.

A deficit in the required number of hours of sleep caused serious physiological reactions. Elevated blood pressure, increased risk for heart attack…not to mention the rapid aging effects to the skin.

Most people needed between seven and eight hours, but I wasn't most people.

I had no doubt that six hours was the perfect amount for me.

So, every day I was up at five to go for a run.

Because I didn't look this good by accident.

I put in three miles each morning, and then was cleaned up and in my office by six-thirty.

This morning, I made it by six-fifteen.

Something was telling me that it was going to be an interesting day.

"What's on my schedule for today, Sherrie?" I asked as I breezed past her desk. I knew that she would get up and follow me.

"You have an eight-thirty appointment with Max Wright, followed by a nine-thirty with Kenneth Stuckey."

"Cancel Kenneth and get me in to see Ramone," I told her as I crossed my office.

"Today?"

I stopped in front of my desk and turned around to look at her for the first time today.

"Is that a problem?"

"No, sir, it's just that…um…sometimes Ramone needs a little more notice."

"I'm sure he'll fit me in," I stated firmly.

Ramone was my barber. Okay, he was a hairdresser. But I was in need of a trim, and how busy could the man possibly be?

"I'll see what I can do," she replied as she jotted down notes. "I can probably move Mr. Stuckey back to eleven if you'd like," she offered.

"If I wanted him moved, I would've suggested it. Cancel that appointment," I told her, and then I turned away from her and walked around my desk to sit in my chair.

I needed to think seriously about replacing her. She tried too hard to guess what I wanted from her.

I didn't need her to _think_.

I just needed her to _listen_ and then _do_.

Max Wright, my eight-thirty appointment, was my campaign manager. He wanted to go over some talking points for me to use at the fund-raiser tonight.

I wasn't sure why he thought I needed his help knowing what to say, but every once in awhile he had a decent idea, so I would give him half an hour.

Twenty minutes after my arrival, Sherrie brought me a cup of coffee and the paper.

"Polling numbers?" I asked her without looking up from the brief that I was preparing.

"You're…um…down two…um two points today, sir," she stammered.

_Two points?_

This was because of Derek. I knew he would cause me to drop in the polls, but _two points_?

I would have some ground to make up with my speech tonight. I needed to do something newsworthy.

I looked up and realized that Sherrie was still standing in front of my desk.

"Is there something else?" I asked her in annoyance.

"I checked on Mr. Goren again, like you asked. He still hasn't been admitted to the hospital."

"I didn't ask you if he'd been _admitted_. I asked you if he was still _there_. They can keep him in the emergency department without admitting him. Call them back."

"Yes sir."

I wanted to know where that man was because I didn't trust him. My election was hitting a crucial point and the last thing I needed was interference from those mongrels.

I got back to work on the brief, although my mind was wandering.

I should call that man and tell him to simply bring me an expenditure report so that I could pay their expenses and be done with them.

What did they think, that I would just continue to foot the bill while they played at being private eyes in my city?

"Mr. Carver?" Sherrie was calling me through the intercom. I loathed when she did that. How much trouble could it possibly be for her to stand up and walk to my office?

"What is it?"

"Mr. Goren had a check-up this morning, but he is no longer anywhere in the hospital."

"Thank you," I said out of habit.

"Oh, and your eight-thirty is here. Would you like to meet with him in your office?"

"Yes, send him in."

I was annoyed and distracted throughout my meeting with Max, and my mood didn't improve while Ramone fussed over me.

What were those four up to?

Why had Alexandra and the other one come to speak with me last night? They knew I'd talked with Caleb Freeman, but they didn't know why.

I needed to keep it that way. I needed to be sure they didn't keep poking around.

Maybe I would have another chat with Mr. Freeman, just to make sure he kept his mouth shut.

I arrived back at the office at ten-forty-five.

I had the beginning of a migraine and Ramone had cut my hair a little too short.

I'd also been unable to get the nail buff I'd been hoping for, so this day was going down hill at a catastrophic rate.

As I passed Sherrie's desk, she immediately hopped up.

"Mr. Carver…"

"What is it?"

"There's someone in your office. Two…people…actually," she trailed off as I leveled my angry gaze onto her.

"You know how I feel about unscheduled appointments."

"I thought it would be okay since you were…um…"

"Who is it?" I interrupted.

"Mr. and Mrs. Goren."

TBC...


	34. Chapter 34

**Bobby POV**

* * *

It hadn't taken much to talk Carver's secretary into letting us into his office. In fact, she'd almost insisted.

I got the feeling that maybe we were part of a passive-aggressive display against her boss, but whatever the reason, I didn't care.

We were in.

We'd checked the mikes when we got into the office, and then we turned them off.

I didn't know how long we would have to wait and I didn't need our entire conversation recorded.

But we could still listen to the others and they were going to give us a heads-up when Carver entered the building.

"How are you feeling?" Alex asked quietly as we sat together on a loveseat along the side wall of the office.

"Good," I told her. "There's nothing quite like the feeling of when it all comes together."

"Nothing?"

"Well, almost nothing," I amended.

"How long do you think it'll take?" she asked me.

"For him to get here? I don't know."

"No, I mean for you to get a confession."

"Why, do you want to make a bet?" I suggested playfully.

"What did you have in mind?" she replied.

"He's on his way in," Logan's voice came through the earpiece.

That meant our fun and games would have to wait.

Alex nodded at me, immediately slipping into work mode.

We each clicked on our mikes and got ready to get down to business.

Two minutes later, Carver arrived.

"Detectives," he greeted us cautiously when he came into his office. I watched him as his eyes tracked over me and settled briefly on my sling before then shifting over to look at Alex. "To what do I owe this honor?"

"We've got some news for you on your brother's case."

"There is no case on my brother."

"We caught his killer," I continued, ignoring his denial. "It was a drug dealer named Van Miller."

If he knew the name, he hid his reaction.

"Very well then. So our business is complete. Have you brought me the expense report? I'll write you a check and we can sever our ties right now."

"Miller wasn't working alone," Alex said.

For the time being, neither of us made any move to get up from our seats and it appeared to annoy him that we hadn't stood upon his arrival.

"Detectives, I already know about Caleb Freeman. He put out a hit on Derek. Apparently this reprobate Van Miller accepted the assignment. End of story."

"No, but see, that's not the end of the story. Freeman and Miller were working together to deal their drugs."

"I don't see how that's relevant."

"They had a boss."

"Most people do."

"A boss who wanted to remain unknown. A boss in a powerful position."

Now we had his curiosity piqued.

"And who might that be?"

"Stanley Wilmouth. A search warrant is being served on him as we speak. He'll be in custody within the hour."

"DA Wilmouth? He was taking money for drugs?"

"Amazing what kind of slime balls they have working in the DA's office, isn't it?" Alex said to him with a smile.

**

* * *

**

Carver POV

When Sherrie informed me of who was waiting in my office, I had to tamp down the anxiety.

Because I needed to stay calm.

Was it a coincidence that they had shown up in my office the day after I'd made the shadiest deal of my illustrious career?

I didn't believe in coincidences, and yet I found it impossible to fathom that they would be privy to the information.

Mr. Freeman would never tell.

Why would he?

If he did, then he'd be going down for first-degree murder, twenty-five to life. Or even at best, he'd get second-degree and pull fifteen to twenty.

So no, Mr. Freeman would never disclose my offer.

He would let me explain to the judge why I was willing to make such a deal.

He would let me handle the details because I was the one with the brain.

He merely knew how to use a gun. And obviously he didn't even do that very well because he'd allowed himself to get caught.

So, they weren't here about that.

Were they here to wrap up our business? Was I actually going to get my wish and be able to send them on their way?

I'd gladly write a check for double what I owed if they would just go back to New York quietly.

But I'd worked with that man before. He rarely did anything quietly.

Despite her display of open hostility toward me yesterday, Alexandra had still accompanied that man to my office, and for that I was grateful. She usually did an excellent job keeping him in line.

And of course, he was injured. At least I knew he wouldn't pull a testosterone-driven stunt like that imbecile Mike Logan.

"Detectives," I said coolly as I entered my office. I mentally berated myself for the designation slip-up, but I was sure not to show any outward sign of the error. Besides, I didn't want to call them by name, so the out-dated title would suffice.

I slowly inspected the appearance of both of my guests, making note of the sling on Goren's arm.

And here I'd thought his injury was life-threatening considering all of the bluster Mike Logan had subjected me to. It seemed that man was determined to bring his proletarian style of drama into my world.

"To what do I owe this honor?" I asked carefully as I settled my eyes on the always-lovely Alexandra.

I was surprised and annoyed to find the two of them sitting together on the informal love seat rather than in the chairs near the desk.

How unprofessional.

"We've got some news for you on your brother's case," Goren spoke up.

"There is no case on my brother," I replied firmly. I walked around behind my desk and sat down.

"We caught his killer," he told me, as though I'd be interested. What good did that do me? It wasn't going to change anything. "It was a drug dealer named Van Miller."

Was I supposed to react somehow?

As if I would know a drug dealer.

As if I would admit to it if I did.

Regardless, this was good news. This meant that there was no reason for them to stay in Chicago.

"Very well then. So our business is complete. Have you brought me the expense report? I'll write you a check and we can sever our ties right now."

I pulled my leather-bound checkbook from out of my desk drawer and withdrew my Montblanc pen from my breast pocket.

"Miller wasn't working alone," Alexandra said.

This futile exercise was beginning to exasperate me. I knew about Caleb Freeman. They _knew_ that I knew about Caleb Freeman.

So why did they feel the need to walk me slowly through each step? Did they think that it would impress me?

"Detectives," I said in frustration. "I already know about Caleb Freeman. He put out a hit on Derek. Apparently this reprobate Van Miller accepted the assignment. End of story."

But apparently, as hard as I found it to believe, in this instance I was wrong.

Because then they mentioned that there was an upper-level boss running the drug operation.

And the way they were watching me was…expectant? Suspicious? Victorious?

"And who might that be?" I asked them warily.

When they said the name, I felt like Christmas had come early.

Stanley Wilmouth. My competition.

I sat back in my chair and thoughtfully stroked the smoothness of my own cheek.

If they took him down, then there was nothing to stop me from my ultimate goal.

I'd known when I first awakened this morning that today would be something special. I could barely contain my smile.

"DA Wilmouth?" I asked, just to be sure that I wasn't hallucinating. "He was taking money for drugs?"

"Amazing what kind of slime balls they have working in the DA's office, isn't it?"

Alexandra smiled at me and, despite her coarse remark, I was struck again by her magnetism.

I wondered if she would be singing a different tune now that it was a certainty that I would be named the new District Attorney.

Maybe I could take another run at her.

Maybe this time, she would see me for my full potential and realize that she would never do any better.

Maybe this was precisely the sequence of events that needed to happen to make everything perfectly clear to her that I was far superior to that man for whom she had settled.

"Don't you think so?" she asked me sweetly.

"I beg your pardon?"

I'd been so wrapped up in my visions of the future that I had clearly missed hearing her question.

"Slime balls. There are lots of them working here."

Where was she going with this? I cocked my head to one side and looked at her inquisitively.

And then I allowed myself to glance to her right at that man sitting next to her.

He was watching me intently.

And suddenly, I began to feel nervous.

"Isn't that what you would call an ADA who made a deal with a murderer?" Goren asked me.

I began to perspire.

"Prosecuting attorneys make deals all of the time," I replied cautiously. "It's what we do."

"That's right," Goren said, suddenly standing up and walking to the center of the room. "You make deals."

"Yes, Detective."

"Is that what you did for Caleb Freeman? Did you make him a deal?"

It would be unfeasible for him to know.

_He's trying to trip me up_. I've seen how the man works.

But if he thinks he can outsmart me, then he's in for a rude awakening.

**

* * *

**

Bobby POV

I had him on the ropes, so now it was time to go for the throat.

"Counselor?" I asked when he didn't respond.

I knew that I was making him nervous with my relentless pacing, but I was getting too much enjoyment out of this not to play it to the hilt.

"I'm sorry, Detective, but you want to know if I offered Mr. Freeman a deal? I don't believe that it's in your purview to question how a Chicago ADA performs his duties."

"Is that a yes?" I asked him. I stood in front of his desk and first picked up his stapler and then set it down and selected a paperweight instead. I bounced the hideous-looking item in my hand while I waited for his reply.

"I believe my response was that the information is privileged."

"That's funny," Alex said as she stood up to join me in front of Carver's desk. "Because that's not what Caleb Freeman said."

"Mr. Freeman has no business discussing the details of our meeting," he replied defensively.

He sat back in his chair in an effort to put a little more distance between us because by this time, Alex and I were both crowding his desk.

"And Mr. Carver had no business meeting with a defendant without his attorney present. What would the ABA think about that?"

"Are you threatening me again, Detective? I believe that's twice in four days."

Okay, so I didn't need that on the tape, but I had a feeling that it wasn't going to matter. He was backpedaling quickly now. It was just a matter of time.

I looked at Alex and she immediately met my gaze.

"Three minutes," I said to her with a smirk. I couldn't resist adding the challenge of having a time limit.

"Are you sure?"

"Three," I confirmed.

"Detectives," Carver began in irritation. "I believe this discussion has reached an end."

"I don't believe it has," I countered as I turned to face him again. "You haven't told me how you planned to do it."

"Planned to do what?"

"How were you going to get a judge to sign off on involuntary manslaughter?"

"Involuntary manslaughter," he repeated slowly. He had to speak slowly because surely his brain was running down different paths trying to assess the damage.

"We know about the deal," Alex told him conspiratorially. "We have Caleb Freeman's sworn statement as to what the two of you discussed."

"So you have the word of a drug dealing murderer. Bravo, Detectives. You've caught me," he said sarcastically.

_If he only knew_.

"You made the deal in an interrogation room, right?" I asked him.

If he was half as smart as he thought he was, he would make the right inference.

"Yes, I…"

He quickly stopped speaking.

He'd slipped up and he knew it immediately. It was minor, but it ruffled his feathers nonetheless.

"What I mean to say is that I _spoke_ with him in the interrogation room," he clarified as he made the effort to regain his composure.

"Uh huh. I know," I told him confidently.

And I waited while he put the rest of the pieces together. I'd laid them out for him perfectly so I was sure that it wouldn't take him long to reach my intended conclusion.

And I knew the precise moment that he did.

"You have another statement, don't you? Someone was in the observation room?" he asked suspiciously.

Alex stood up straight and crossed her arms and looked at him triumphantly.

"It's understandable. You needed to be sure that he would keep Derek's name out of his allocution," I added encouragingly. "And what would it hurt to put another banger back out on the street a little sooner than he should be?"

"I don't know what your witness thinks he heard, but you have proof of nothing. I never filled out any paperwork to perpetuate this so-called deal. All you have is hearsay and the statement of a felon."

He was trying to appear calm, but I could tell that he was worried.

If we truly did have a statement from a cop who had been in the observation room, then he would be in a world of trouble because that statement wouldn't be hearsay. It would be a direct observation of the incident.

Unfortunately, there hadn't actually been a witness. But that didn't matter. We were still going to get him.

"No paperwork at all?" Alex asked him. "So when the Chicago PD serves their warrant on this office, they won't find any evidence to support our theory?"

"Alexandra," he said, shaking his head. "You should never attempt to bluff someone who is intellectually superior. It only makes you come across as foolish."

He paused dramatically before continuing speaking as though we were a couple of grade-schoolers. "There was no one in that observation room. If there had been, then Chicago PD would have their warrant and they'd be in here instead of the two of you."

"Are you sure about that?"

"Detectives, I'm tired of your games. You have no proof that I made a deal with Mr. Freeman in exchange for keeping my brother's name out of his allocution."

"But you did. Everyone in this room knows that you did," I told him in mock frustration.

I struggled to maintain my disappointed countenance because what I really wanted to do was smile. I always loved getting a suspect to admit to their guilt, but this time it was even sweeter than usual.

Carver was going to be disbarred at the very least.

I wandered to the center of the room and looked at the floor for a minute before I continued.

"I bet you're just loving the fact that you outsmarted me on this one, aren't you?" I asked him quietly. "It's a little personal victory for you. Now you've proven to Alex that you're the better man. You committed a crime and I can't touch you because you're too smart to get caught. Isn't that right, Counselor?"

He sat back in his chair and locked eyes with mine.

"That's right, Detective. You're no match for me."

"Oh, but he is," Alex told him with a smile.

Then she crossed the room and casually sat down on the loveseat again. I watched the confused expression on Carver's face for just a moment and then I sat down beside her.

"I think we're done here, Detectives. Please show yourselves out."

"No, I think we'll wait," I countered. "They'll be here in ten minutes."

"Who?"

"The Chicago PD," I said as I pulled the mike from under the collar of my shirt and held it up for him to see. "You just confessed."

TBC...


	35. Chapter 35

**Logan POV**

* * *

The entertainment provided by the Gorens was top notch.

The only thing missing was the popcorn.

Because I didn't need to be in that office to know exactly what kind of expression Carver was wearing when Goren informed him that he'd just confessed on tape.

And the events that followed were just as gratifying.

Ross called Coulter to let him know that we'd secured a confession. Coulter then immediately called the ADA that he had on standby and sent her to have a judge sign off on the arrest warrant.

It wouldn't take long.

Because it was quite clear that Carver had suborned perjury.

The fact that he had interviewed a defendant without his attorney would have sparked an inquiry, but what we'd just now gotten on tape supported the criminal charge as well.

Unfortunately, all of the other things he had done…the other contemptible, unethical, repugnant things that Carver had done over the course of the past four days…those things were not technically crimes.

But this was enjoyable payback all the same.

He would no longer be practicing law. He could possibly even get jail time, but whether or not that happened was irrelevant.

Life as he knew it was over.

And yet, I wanted more humiliation.

The constant throb in my face and the fact that I'd had to miss a night of making love to my wife made me out for blood.

I pulled off my com device and tossed them onto the seat next to me before opening the car door.

"I'll be back," I said.

"That's not a good idea," Ross replied. "The cops will be here soon. Just let them do their thing."

"Captain," I said and my voice was nearly pleading.

I met his gaze and silently begged for him to understand. I was going upstairs anyway, but I'd come to respect him over the past two days.

I wanted him to recognize my need.

After a long moment, he gave a barely perceptible nod.

"Don't kill him," he said quietly.

Carolyn followed me out of the car, as I'd known she would.

"What are you going to do?" she asked me casually as we went through security.

"Why?"

"I'm wondering if I should make a call to arrange bail money," she joked.

Or maybe she wasn't joking.

Hell, I might need bail money. But I loved that she was standing beside me on this and not trying to squash my temper.

"He deserves more than a slap on the wrist," I told her. I pushed the button for the elevator and waited impatiently.

"I know," she agreed.

And she wasn't quite as calm as she was attempting to appear.

In fact, it seemed to me that she was simmering hot just beneath the surface.

As we waited for the elevator, I debated the merits of pushing Carolyn's buttons so that she could vent on Carver versus just doing it myself.

Hell, maybe we'd tag team him.

"Do you still have your mike?" I asked her as the elevator arrived. The doors closed behind us and I started counting in my head.

"Yeah," she told me.

"Turn it on and tell Ross to let us know when the cops get here. Then turn it back off."

She did as I asked as we climbed to the fifth floor.

Thirteen seconds. Another five to get down the hall, three or four to cross the initial lobby downstairs…I figured we'd have between twenty and twenty-five seconds from the time Ross gave us the signal until the cops showed up in Carver's office.

Good information to know.

We bypassed the receptionist's desk and headed down the hallway.

"Sir! Ma'am! Do you have an appointment?"

"We're here to see Mr. Carver," I said over my shoulder.

"He's with someone right now!" she called out, chasing after us in spiky heels.

Carolyn whirled around to face her.

"You work for Mr. Carver?" she asked her.

"Yes I do."

"You might want to go back to your desk and start working on your resume."

"What?"

"On second thought, I'd rather you not be near your computer, so why don't you just take a break. It's about lunch time, right?"

"But…"

"It's the smart thing to do," I told her earnestly. She seemed like a nice enough girl and I didn't want her to try to be noble and attempt to cover for her boss.

She thought about it for all of two seconds and then went back to her desk, grabbed her purse, and headed for the elevator.

"If I try to hit him, don't stop me, okay?" Carolyn said as we got to Carver's door.

"Why in the world would I stop you?" I asked her with a grin.

We could hear Carver's voice through the closed door and although I couldn't hear his words, it sounded like he was in the middle of a tirade. The Gorens had turned off their mikes after securing the confession, so even if I still had my earpiece, I wouldn't have known what was going on until this moment.

Whatever he'd been saying, he stopped when he heard the door open and he turned to look at us.

"Great," he said dramatically. "It's Detectives Logan and Barek. More names I can add to my lawsuit. Please, come in."

"Actually, if you're going to put my name in a legal document, you should use Logan instead of Barek," Carolyn said conversationally as we walked into the room. "That's L-O-G…"

"I am well aware of how to spell the name," Carver interrupted.

"So what exactly are we being sued for? You were getting ready to explain that," Alex said.

She and Goren were sitting on a little couch along the side of the room and Carver was standing in the center of the office. He looked like he was getting ready to lecture a jury about something.

"All I can say is that you'd better find yourselves a damn good attorney. Good luck finding one who can beat me."

"I don't need to find a _lawyer_ to beat you," I spoke up. "I can do that myself."

Carver took two steps away from me when he recognized the threat in my statement.

I wasn't going to hurt the guy, but I didn't mind him being afraid of me.

And okay, maybe I was going to hurt him. I hadn't decided yet.

I'd have to see what words came out of his mouth.

"Another threat to a district attorney. Keep going, Detective Logan. The listing of charges will grow."

"You want to talk about charges? How about inciting assault?" Alex suggested. Carver whipped his head around to look at her.

"What are you talking about?"

"You know what she's talking about," Goren said as he rose from the couch.

He stepped up close to Carver, using every inch of his height advantage to be nerve-racking.

"You told that officer to let the prisoners know that Mike used to be a cop," Goren told him. "You knew what would happen. You can _see_ what happened. That's assault."

"I'm not aware that Detective Logan filed any assault charges. Considering your… vast knowledge of the law," he continued mockingly. "Surely you know that a crime must have first been committed before a charge of incitation for said crime can be alleged."

"I guess you don't know everything then, do you?" I asked him. "I filed charges this morning, which I believe then makes the predicate crime of assault allow for the secondary crime of incitation. Isn't that right, Counselor?"

At Carver's surprised expression, I added, "See, I know big words, too."

I walked closer to him as well, and as he continued to back up, Goren and I encroached on his space until we had him pinned in against his desk.

And no, I hadn't filed assault charges because I was concerned that they might be filed on me in return. But it might be worth it if it meant that I could include Carver in the complaint. I hadn't considered that.

"Detectives, your intimidation tactics aren't going to work on me. You're only making things worse for yourselves."

But they _were_ working on him. He was clearly unnerved.

"We came out here to help you," Goren stated. "To help your brother. And you've treated us with contempt and condescension from the moment we got here."

"That's because you're contemptible individuals," he declared boldly. His eyes shifted to Alex as she got up from the couch and moved closer to the action. "The only one of you who has any good breeding at all has chosen to ruin herself by associating with the likes of the three of you."

Carolyn stepped up beside me at this point and jabbed her finger at Carver's chest.

"You don't know a thing about my family. In fact, you don't know anything about any of us. How dare you make blanket judgments because of what you read in a file somewhere. What does your past look like? How many things did you have redacted from your history simply because it didn't suit your image? Other than your own brother, I mean."

Carver slowly looked down at her finger that was still jamming into his chest and then back at Carolyn.

She was livid and he was getting there in a hurry.

About this time, Carolyn stopped suddenly and turned to give me a pointed look.

Ross must have announced that the CPD had arrived.

It was time to step it up.

"She's got a point, Carver," I goaded. "I mean, you hung your own brother out to dry. You didn't care about finding him. You just wanted him out of the picture."

"That's right," Carolyn added. "You were afraid he'd mess up your chances of getting elected. But it turned out you did that all on your own, didn't you? You screwed yourself over good. Seems like Derek was the better of the two Carvers after all."

Carver's temperature was starting to reach the boiling point and he was glaring at Carolyn in such a way that made me want to slug him just on principle.

But I was in control even if he wasn't.

"I bet you want to hit her for saying that, don't you? She's comparing you to your drugged out prostitute brother?" I taunted. "And she's saying that he's better than you? But you wouldn't hit a lady, would you? You're too refined for that."

"She's no lady," he countered, but he slowly shifted his gaze to me, effectively dismissing Carolyn.

"You can get a free shot at me, though. Hell, look at me. Who's going to know the difference? The mikes are turned off and it's just the five of us. Go ahead. Take a swing at me."

"You'd like that, wouldn't you? Then it would give you an excuse to come after me. I don't resolve issues with my fists."

"That's because you're an uptight pansy-ass elitist snob. Derek would've punched me by now, and do you know why? Because he was a man. He might have had his problems, but at least he was honest about who he was. You're the epitome of every lawyer joke ever made. You're an unethical piece of crap who would rather make a deal with a murderer than run the risk of anyone finding out about Derek. He wasn't ashamed of who he was so why are you?"

Carver was fuming, but I was running out of time. I made a quick glance at Goren, who seemed to have picked up on what I was doing because he gave me an encouraging nod.

I only had about five seconds left, so I had to make it good.

"I can't wait until the boys at Dixon get a look at you," I said in a low tone. I let my eyes look him up and down. "You're going to be every prisoner's wet dream."

The timing was perfect. Carver let loose with a right cross to my face just as the CPD came in the door.

The two officers, one of which I was happy to note was Reggie Moore, came rushing in and grabbed Carver roughly.

Reggie turned him around and shoved him down onto his desk and then whipped his arms behind his back and slapped the cuffs on him.

"Ronald Carver you are under arrest for subornation of perjury," the one officer began.

"And assault," Reggie added. "I'll write up a statement verifying the event."

He gave me a nod as they led Carver away, and then more officers came in to execute the search warrant.

"Mike, are you okay?" Carolyn asked me. I had staggered back a step from the blow, but only because I was already bruised.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I told her as we walked out of the office. "He hits like a girl."

"Oh, you want to see how it feels to get hit by a girl?" Alex asked me, giving me a nudge in the shoulder.

"Let me heal first," I laughed. "Then I'll go a few rounds with you. But I already know that you don't hit like a girl. Neither of you."

"That was pretty good timing, Mike," Goren told me.

We were to the elevators by this point and the doors had just closed on Carver and the cops. I was amused to see all of the secretaries and support staff still looking at the elevator, shocked at the sight of one of their bosses being taken away in handcuffs.

"I wasn't sure he was going to do it," I admitted. "He's got more willpower than I gave him credit for."

"He doesn't have willpower. He just doesn't have any balls to stand up for himself," Alex countered.

"I was hoping he'd swing at me," Carolyn said. "You didn't have to get him focused on you, you know. I know how to take a punch. Especially one from him."

"I know you do, sweetheart," I told her, putting an arm around her as we got onto the elevator. "But you would've hit back, and then they would've arrested you, too, and it would've turned into a whole thing."

"True," she agreed.

"Besides, I didn't want anything to mess up that beautiful face."

We got outside the building in time to see Reggie struggling to get Carver into the back of a black-and-white.

"This isn't necessary, Officer. This has all been a huge misunderstanding."

"Mr. Carver, please. You're only making it harder on yourself. We have a warrant for you arrest. If it's a mistake…"

"It _is_ a mistake," he interrupted. "And I'll have your badge for going through with it!"

"Badge number 1303," Reggie said calmly as he finally inelegantly shoved Carver in the backseat. "Give it your best shot."

The four of us walked up to the cruiser and I bent over to get in my parting shot.

"See you downtown, Carver," I told him. "I'll be sure to let the boys in the holding cell know you're coming."

TBC...


	36. Chapter 36

**Liz POV**

* * *

"I've never really heard them in action before," I said to Danny after Mike and Carolyn got out of the car. "For a minute there, I thought maybe they'd let him slip away."

"That was the point," he replied. "Usually if you give a criminal enough rope, he'll hang himself. And no one supplies the rope better than those two."

"It's hard for me to think of Carver as a criminal. I never cared for the man, but I always thought he worked hard. Although it does sound like he has a very high opinion of himself."

"He got too caught up in it. He lost sight of what was right."

"So what happens next?"

"Next we hope that neither Logan kills him before the CPD shows up. Then we'll go to the station and give our statements. After that, we can probably go home."

"So that's it? What'll happen to Carver?"

"He'll go to jail," Danny replied simply. "Maybe he'll get by with probation, but he'll definitely be disbarred. Some lucky, unsuspecting ADA is going to get that DA's seat."

"Hopefully it'll be someone with a few morals," I said sadly.

I hated to think that the system was so damaged. I hated the idea that men who were supposed to be keeping justice in this country were actually perpetuating the downfall of the legal system.

What ever happened to the good guys?

Oh yeah, right.

They were on the fifth floor taking down a corrupt ADA.

"What do you think Mike will do to him?" I asked Danny as I watched expectantly down the street for the CPD.

I wanted to be sure to be able to give Logan enough of a warning so that he could cover up the evidence of whatever payback he was getting.

"It's not him that I'm worried about," Danny said. "It's her. Did you see the look on her face?"

"What do you think about her?" I asked him.

I was curious about his take on Carolyn. She was a mystery to me. Dedicated, tough as nails, smart, and yet she had a distance about her that made me wonder what kind of life she'd led.

She rarely let anyone see past her carefully constructed walls.

"She's spoken her mind to me a time or two," he admitted. "Let's just say that I like knowing she's on my side. It's much better than the alternative."

I thought about his response as I kept watch down the block. It had been several minutes, and I was curious as to what was happening upstairs.

I didn't like waiting. I liked _doing_.

"Oh, did you hear from the commissioner?" I asked him, remembering that he had left town without getting verbal approval for his time off.

"He's left me a few messages," he told me. "I haven't called him back yet."

"Danny, you can't just ignore him. Call him and tell him that you're tied up in a personal matter."

He was quiet for so long that I thought maybe he wasn't going to answer me and I wondered what was going on in his head.

"I'm not sure I want to go back," he said at last.

"What?"

"I'm serious Liz. I don't know if I want to keep doing the job."

"What are you going to do? Follow the Gorens and the Logans around the country while they work cases?"

I knew that I was being a smartass, but he'd taken me completely by surprise. And honestly, I didn't care if he wanted to quit the NYPD. Hell, I didn't care if he didn't want to work another day in his life.

I just didn't want him to make a decision that he'd later regret just because he was caught up in the excitement that inevitably followed those four.

"Of course not," he replied in a way that made me think he was thinking _exactly_ that. "Maybe I'm just questioning how much good I'm doing where I'm at. We had a corrupt chief, he was replaced by a man who was only marginally more ethical, and now looking at what's going on out here…it's enough to make me doubt the system."

"And?"

"And nothing. I'm just questioning if I want to stay on with the NYPD," he said defensively.

"It's your choice," I told him. "You know I'm behind you either way."

Before he could respond, I saw a black-and-white come racing down the street.

"I see it," he said as I pointed my finger in the direction of the oncoming car. He clicked on his mike and announced that the cops were pulling up.

"You know, the Danny Ross I used to know would've never allowed Mike and Carolyn to go in there."

"I'm not the boss of them."

"You know what I'm saying," I insisted. "You helped arrange this whole thing. It's your ass on the line with Coulter, and potentially even back at home. If you had asked Mike to stay, he would have. He was waiting for your approval."

"What's your point?"

"You've changed. Maybe you shouldn't go back."

"And then what would I do? Like you said, I can't go chasing after the four of them."

"You're a smart man. You'll come up with something."

"So you're saying that you think I should quit?"

"I'm saying don't stick with the job just because you're not sure what else to do. You always have options on the table. We're not hurting for money. If you need some time to decide what you want to do, then take it. We'll be fine."

He was quiet again, and before long, two uniformed officers brought Carver out through the front doors, his hands cuffed behind his back.

"Something happened," Danny said.

"Why?"

"They wouldn't have cuffed him for subornation of perjury."

I watched as Carver argued with the cops. I couldn't hear what was being said, but the intent was clear. Carver thought that he was much too good to be placed in the back of a squad car.

The Logans and the Gorens came out another minute later.

"Oh for heaven's sake," I muttered when I saw Mike's face. He had fresh swelling.

"What?"

"Now I know why Carver's cuffed. I'm betting he's being charged with assault."

**

* * *

**

Bobby POV

It was done.

Carver had walked right into our trap and then he'd gone along with Logan's ruse as well. So now we had him on assault and subornation of perjury.

And it wasn't that I was happy about taking him down.

Okay, so I was a little bit happy about that.

The man had been a thorn in my side for years.

And then he had committed the ultimate sin, as far as I was concerned, and gone after Alex.

He'd gone after her _hard_.

I couldn't help but think that for that reason alone, I would never forgive Carver.

So while on the surface I felt a little bad about a man who was friends with Jimmy Deakins being hauled away in handcuffs, the truth of the matter was that he deserved to be heading off in the black-and-white.

He had basically sold out his own brother all for the sake of his career.

We'd come to town to find Derek Carver.

What we'd actually done was solve his murder, as well as another unsolved murder, and we had shut down a drug cartel which was headed by the district attorney.

No one could say that we hadn't gotten the job done.

"I knew it the minute I saw you," Liz remarked as the six of us sat around a table in the hotel restaurant. "But I still would've loved to see him lose control. He was always so smug and reserved."

We had spent the rest of the day at the precinct making sure that everything was taken care of. Sworn statements were given, evidence turned over, theories discussed.

At this very moment, Wilmouth and Carver were sharing a holding cell at the 11th district.

I had been tempted to announce their identities to the other occupants in the cell, but I'd abstained.

Barely.

I didn't know Wilmouth, but I wanted Carver to get a feel for what had happened with Logan. Although it was probably good that I hadn't said anything because even though Mike had been able to hold his own, Carver would've likely been beaten to death.

And so the fear caused by Logan's threat had probably been enough.

Ironically enough, Mike had been the one to talk me out of saying anything. Alex had joked about that. About the idea that maybe when I got Mike's blood, I'd gotten his temper along with it.

I knew she was only kidding, so I laughed it off at the time, but it didn't keep me from analyzing her statement. Was there truth in something like that? Scientifically, no, but just because it hadn't been proven didn't mean it wasn't possible.

Besides, I did know this much: what Mike had done for me by giving his blood was the single most generous, selfless act that anyone had ever done for me in my entire life.

We'd developed a bond between us before, but now it was different. Now there was no need to make the distinction between brothers by choice and brothers by blood.

We were both.

"Yeah, well I was hoping he would hit me instead," Carolyn spoke up in reference to Liz's remark. "Mike's face has taken enough of a beating."

And it had. He currently held an ice pack against his dark purple jaw, but he had a smile on his face.

"It was worth it," he said easily.

"How'd you get him to do it?" Ross asked Logan.

And I loved that he seemed curious rather than annoyed. He was starting to get Mike.

He was starting to get all of us.

"Well, it seems that Carver has a bit of a hang-up about being compared to his brother," Alex said.

She gave me a look when she made that comment, and I knew that she was afraid that Frank was on my mind. And he was a little.

But our talk the other day had freed me of some of my guilt about him. Alex was right, as usual.

I had good memories of Frank, and I had done what I could to help him.

I had to let everything else go.

"He has _a lot_ of hang-ups," Carolyn corrected. "Don't get me started on him."

"So, how are you guys going to get paid for this thing?" Ross asked.

"His assets have been frozen. I turned in our expense report, and whenever his finances get out of the holding pattern that they're currently in, the bills will be paid. It might take a little while, but we'll get it. And the hotel and airline tickets out here were on his credit card, so it could've been worse."

"Sorry that you had to come out here for nothing," I told Rodgers. But she looked happy, so maybe it wasn't such a bad thing,

"It wasn't for nothing. I didn't come out here for slicing and dicing. I just needed to make sure that everyone was okay. Next time you guys take a field trip you need to keep us both in the loop, okay?"

I couldn't stop the laugh. Liz using a Ross-phrase was just too much.

"Tom's going to make sure that no charges are pressed against you for the jail house incident," Ross said to Logan, ignoring my laughter. Alex and Mike were chuckling, too, but no one asked.

"He was considering it?" Carolyn asked heatedly. "How could he possibly be considering it when it was…"

"Carolyn," Mike interrupted. He was calm and composed as he leaned back in his chair, one hand on his ice pack and the other resting on Carolyn's shoulder. "There won't be any charges. And I did send a guy to the hospital, so let's just be happy that it's over with, okay?"

"Okay," she agreed reluctantly.

"You know, you never did tell us why he owed you," Alex spoke up.

"Tom?" Liz asked and then she looked at Ross. "You didn't tell them?"

"No," he said quietly. "It's not a big deal."

"It is," she argued and I nodded my head in agreement.

"It definitely is," I added. "Your ties with him got us out of a jam, not to mention that his willingness to let us work this case helped us bring Carver down."

"I thought we were going to start sharing personal stories now," Mike said. "Remember?"

"I haven't heard anything from you, Logan."

"I think I'm already ahead of the curve. You've been reading the text messages from Rhonda, right? You know a secret from my past. It's your turn."

"That's not the same," Ross argued.

"No, it's not. Mine's worse."

"Oh, for God's sake Danny. Are you going to tell them or do you want me to?" Liz asked him, pinning him with her stare. I was reminded again why I liked her. There was no pretense, no bullshit.

"We walked a beat together in the Bronx," he said finally. "We got a call for a domestic dispute. Turned out the husband was holding his wife at gunpoint. The couple's kid let us in the apartment, and then the man turned the gun onto us."

I could easily picture the scene. Domestic disputes were always sketchy.

"So what happened?" Alex asked him.

"He took a shot at Tom. I shoved him out of the way."

"He took a bullet in the chest," Liz clarified. I looked at Ross in surprise. I had never heard that story, or anything remotely similar. And usually hero stories like that spread like wildfire around the department.

"So you saved his life," Carolyn stated.

"I…um…yes. I guess I did."

"In the chest?" Logan asked. "How long were you out?"

"It took me three months to get back to full duty. They reassigned me to a precinct in Queens. They'd gotten a bad reputation for an incident that had happened while I was on medical leave and so they thought that bringing me in might provide them with good press."

"How did Tom end up in Chicago?"

"He's from here. He went to NYU and then stayed in New York to join the force, but after a few years, he got hired with the CPD and worked his way up."

"So he never got the chance to pay you back."

"He didn't really owe me. He was my partner. It's what you do," he deflected.

I was seeing a whole different side of Ross and it was completely unexpected. Of course, I had enough trouble picturing him as a beat cop, but he'd saved the life of another cop? And he was playing it off, not using it to his advantage to climb the political ladder?

"So now we owe _you_," Logan said. His tone was serious, and I couldn't blame him. Ross had cashed in that kind of chip to get Logan out of trouble. Well, to help us all, but initially it had been Mike's issue with the cops that had prompted the action.

"I think it's safe to call us even," Ross argued.

"All of us," Alex added, her voice speaking the words that were in my head.

I knew that Ross felt like he owed us a debt of gratitude, but I didn't want that from him. I didn't want him to feel like he had to jump when we called because of some perceived imbalance of the scales.

"I don't know if that's really…"

"All of us," I repeated. "We're all even now, right?"

"Right," Carolyn agreed. "Well, except I think that maybe I still owe Alex…"

"And I owe Mike," Alex spoke up.

"Nobody owes anybody anything!" Liz said loudly, stopping the conversation. "Clean slate from here on out. Got it?"

We had it.

Any assistance that was going to be given from this point forward was because that's what friends did for each other.

Friends and family.

TBC...


	37. Chapter 37

**Ross POV **

* * *

We arrived back in New York on Wednesday, but I decided to take some time. I wasn't motivated to return to the office, and I wasn't completely sure if I ever would be.

Was it possible that I had changed too much?

I wasn't sure, but a couple of days worth of self-analysis proved useful.

Sure, I had changed.

Maybe my priorities were a little different now than they were a year ago. Hell, even a month ago.

But that didn't mean that I couldn't do the job, and do it well. I could insist on a higher caliber of detective in my department.

There wasn't much I could do about the people over me, but I could sure as hell enforce the fact that the people under my command would be worthy of the title of an NYPD detective.

So I went back to work that Friday with a fresh attitude.

And then I met my new detectives.

"Captain Ross!" the D.C. transplant called out to me as I strolled through my squad room early Friday morning.

"Give me ten minutes," I said over my shoulder.

He gave me eight.

"I realize that I have some big shoes to fill. I've heard about Detective Goren, and I want you to know that I'm up to the task."

"Which one?" I asked him without looking up from the messages on my desk.

I'd asked the man for ten minutes, so if he was two minutes early, well then that was his problem not mine.

"I'm sorry, sir?"

"Which one?' I asked again more slowly.

I bit back a smile. How much fun had they had at my expense over this? And now here I was, toying with the new guy, in the same manner.

"Which _shoes_?" he asked in confusion. And this guy was supposed to be a detective?

"To which Detective Goren are you referring?" I inquired as I finally looked up at him. He was a young guy, decent-looking, and most likely an ass-kisser.

I needed to cure him of that. Because I didn't want yes men in my department.

I wanted independent thinkers.

I wanted creative thinkers.

I wanted Gorens.

And then he said just about the worst thing he could've possibly said.

"Oh, that's right! I did hear a rumor about him and his partner carrying on some kind of illicit affair. Good detective or not, it's probably best that he's no longer with the department. Anyone who can't follow basic departmental guidelines..."

"Harker, is it?" I asked loudly, interrupting his diatribe.

"Yes sir."

"Get the hell out of my office."

"Sir?"

"You want to keep working here?" I asked him.

"Yes sir!"

"Then get the hell out of my office right now before I change my mind. Send in Bernard."

Harker quickly departed.

I knew that I'd confused him, but he was really going to stand there and be judgmental about the Gorens?

He didn't know them.

I wasn't going to tolerate any bad-mouthing or gossip-spreading in my house.

They hadn't done anything wrong. For the most part.

I mean, sure, they'd fallen in love.

But like Liz had told me so many, many times – you can't help who you fall in love with.

And they had tried to tell me. I knew they wanted to be honest with me. I just had my head up my ass and couldn't deal with it.

But now I could understand. Now I could empathize. And I wasn't going to put up with some snot-nosed new detective talking down about either one of the Gorens.

"Captain Ross?"

It was Bernard, from the 2-7.

"Come on in."

I watched as Detective Bernard entered my office and closed the door behind him.

He looked a lot more seasoned than Harker, and I'd heard good things about him from Van Buren.

"I heard Lupo got reassigned to Counterterrorism," I began.

I didn't want to be unapproachable. I hadn't meant to get so upset with Harker.

His kowtowing had just touched on a nerve.

"Yes sir. He's going to be leaving at the end of this month, so when my lieutenant said that I'd been selected for this position, I decided to give it a shot."

I figured I would go ahead and throw it all out there. If I wasn't going to like him, I may as well know sooner rather than later.

"You've heard about the detectives you're replacing?" I asked him. I kept my face impassive.

"Yes sir. Top-notch detectives. I'm sure MCS will be hurting for awhile."

"Yes. Yes it will," I agreed.

"I may not have the intellectual background of the one Detective Goren, or the street savvy of the other, but I think I do okay. My record at the 2-7 can back me up on that."

And just like that, I liked him.

"You're going to be the senior partner. Harker is green as far as MCS detectives go. He needs to be taught."

"I've got you covered, Captain."

"He's going to want to follow the book verbatim. I'm sure you've learned how to read between the lines."

"Yes sir."

"Okay then. Two things," I told him, and it was all I could do to hide my smile. "Keep him in check, and keep me in the loop."

**

* * *

**

Alex POV

I'd avoided my family for long enough.

Okay, so I hadn't really been avoiding _all_ of them.

Mostly just Cathy.

Since Christmas, my dad had shown that he was going to make an effort, and that was all I could ask of him.

And Cathy was fine with Bobby, so it wasn't that. I just didn't want to hear her moaning about Steve. It had almost been a blessing that I'd been without a cell phone for four days.

I'd lost mine on Monday, and even though we'd gotten back to New York on Wednesday, we didn't immediately shop for new phones.

In fact, we didn't immediately do _anything _except go home and go to bed. We got into the city around noon, we were in the bed by two, and we didn't go anywhere until eight o'clock Friday morning.

We'd spent over forty glorious hours sleeping and making love. With the exception of Bobby's injured arm, it was almost like our honeymoon all over again.

But all good things have to end at some point.

Friday morning, we met Mike and Carolyn at work. At our new office, which was Mike's old apartment. The two of them worked on cases that had been pending during our nearly week-long absence, but they both insisted that we take some time to get organized.

First thing, I called my dad and agreed to a family dinner on Saturday night. I explained to him that we'd both lost our cell phones, although I didn't mention how, and apologized for my lack of communication.

With that task taken care of, Bobby and I spent an hour or so getting ourselves organized in our new work space, but then we got busy, each of us working on separate cases.

Afterwards, we went out and bought new phones, and then that evening, we had dinner with the Logans and Ross and Rodgers.

It was a debriefing of sorts.

I was surprised to learn that Ross had only gone back to work today. I'd thought he'd be itching to indoctrinate his new detectives.

"Just not the same without us, is it?" Bobby teased in a very Mike-like manner.

I know it was because of their close proximity that Bobby was picking up on some of Mike's mannerisms, but it was strange timing considering his receipt of Mike's blood.

"I needed to get my head in the game," Ross admitted. "A lot has changed recently."

"He's thinking about not going back," Liz spoke up. "I mean, he's back, but maybe not staying."

"What?" I asked quickly.

I watched the exchange between the two of them. _A whole conversation without words_.

I smiled at how much that used to piss Ross off when me and Bobby did it.

Seemed we were all rubbing off on each other.

"I'm weighing my options," he said carefully.

"Yeah, I heard that you were getting jammed up because one of your detectives quit and took her badge with her," Mike said.

He managed to get through the whole sentence without cracking a smile, but once the words were out, everyone else started laughing.

"Thanks, Carolyn," I said in mock annoyance. "You told Mike?"

"_I_ told Mike," Ross said with a grin. "So you want to fill me in on how you managed to get it off my desk without me seeing you?"

My face flushed immediately despite my specific internal instructions for it to do otherwise.

"Yeah, I would like to hear that," Carolyn added. "I mean, I knew you had it, but you never really said how you got away with stealing it."

"I didn't steal it," I insisted. I looked at Bobby for moral support, and he gave me a nod. "It's mine. How can you steal something that belongs to you?"

"You turned it in," Ross spoke up. "Both of you. On your last Friday, before you left for the bar, you turned in your guns and badges. They were on my desk when you both walked out of my office."

"And then…" Bobby supplied with a grin.

"And then what?" Ross asked. "You two went to your desks and packed up your things. I put your weapons and badges in an envelope to turn in to personnel."

"Uh huh," I said, knowing that now he was replaying the evening in his head.

He was a smart guy. He'd come up with it.

"And then I went to help Jeffries with that interrogation on the Pfister case," he added. I started smiling and nodding my head. "And you went into my office?"

"I…might have…gone to take one more look at it," I admitted.

It was true. I loved my badge.

And I'd busted my ass to get it, so I didn't think that just because I was leaving the department that I should have to give it back.

It wasn't like I was going to use it.

Okay, I wasn't going to use it for purposes other than good…

"You broke into Danny's office?" Liz asked me.

"I didn't break in," I clarified. "The door wasn't _locked._ I just went in. The envelope was on the desk."

"Sealed," he reminded me.

"Yes, it was sealed. So I opened it, and took out my badge and then put everything into a new envelope and sealed that."

"So when I went to personnel to hand it over," Ross filled in. "Then I had to explain why it was only the department-issue weapons and no badges."

"Oh, hey," Bobby said quickly. "I didn't take mine. It was only Alex."

"Thank you, honey, for throwing me under the bus," I told him, although I brought our joined hands to my lips and kissed his knuckles.

A few weeks ago, his denial would've been a major crime, but now that Ross was…well, one of us…it was just funny.

"Yes, well…" Ross began, and then he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out another badge. Bobby's badge. "I thought you might want to keep yours, too."

Why was it that his simple gesture made me want to cry?

And I don't cry.

But I watched as Bobby let go of my hand and reached across the table to take his badge from Ross.

"I…um…thank you," he said at last.

I could tell that it meant a lot to him, too. Hell, he'd worked hard for that badge just like I had, and just because he hadn't resorted to thievery like I did, didn't mean that he didn't want to keep it. In fact, I felt a little bad for not having stolen it myself.

Although this was going to mean even more to him.

Ross was _giving_ it to him.

And he seemed a little embarrassed by the sentimentality of the gesture, so we were all relieved when the waitress came to bring our drinks. I watched Bobby as he stared at his badge a moment longer before carefully tucking it into his jacket pocket.

"Bobby, if you want to come by the morgue tomorrow, I'll take another look at your arm," Liz told him after she took a sip of her bourbon. "Maybe you can get rid of that sling."

"So soon?" I asked. I wanted him to be done with it, but that artery worried me. I didn't want any more blood loss.

"We'll see," she told me with a nod. And I trusted her to take good care of him.

"I'll come by around eight? Then I can still get to work by nine," Bobby said.

"Work on a Saturday?" Ross asked.

"Well, we were off Wednesday and Thursday," I reminded him.

"Eight o'clock works for me," Liz agreed.

"Anything new from Rhonda?" I asked Mike. He and Carolyn had been quiet for the last few minutes.

"I…actually…did get a text, yes," Mike said reluctantly.

"Were you going to tell us?"

"Hey, we deserve a little bit of down time. I didn't want to jump right into something else."

"What did it say?" Bobby asked.

Mike pulled out his phone and pulled up the message and then handed it to me.

_**I missed you while you were in Chi-town. I'm glad you're back. But you brought the bitch with you. Give me time, and I'll take care of her.**_

"Mike!" I said in alarm when I read the blatant threat. I handed the phone to Bobby, who read it and then gave it to Ross. "When did this come in?"

"Earlier today. I was going to tell you guys in the morning."

"You have that alarm system at your house, right?" Ross asked after reading the message.

"Yeah. We haven't been home since this morning, but it was armed when we left."

"Do a sweep when you go in, just to be sure," I told him. "In fact, we'll come with you," I added. "We'll go through it together."

"You don't have to do that," Carolyn spoke up, although it seemed to me that she was off. She wasn't her usual self, and I wondered if this deliberate warning had finally shaken her.

Or was it just that she was angered by it and now more determined? I needed to learn how to read her emotions better. It was new for her to show them, so I still hadn't mastered her tells.

We knew without a doubt that Rhonda had been watching. She knew that they'd gone to Chicago, and she'd decided to target Carolyn. But did she even know who she was? She never mentioned her by name, so maybe she was only watching. But then how did she know that they'd gone to Chicago?

"NYPD's contracted you guys for this case," Ross reminded us. "I know you have other clients, but I'm thinking that maybe this one gets moved to the top of the list."

"He's right," Mike said, looking at Carolyn. "We need to track her down and put her behind bars where she belongs."

"Bars are too good for her. I've got a few other ideas," Carolyn replied smartly.

"Okay, I did not hear you just say that," Ross said.

"Say what?" she asked him sweetly. But she was pissed and it didn't take any kind of special skills to see that.

"Sounds to me like Rhonda just declared war," Bobby spoke up. "Who's in?"

TBC...


	38. Chapter 38

**Logan POV**

* * *

When I got that damn text from Rhonda, I wasn't sure what to do with it.

I was so angry that the woman wouldn't leave us alone.

Wasn't it enough for her that she was still on the loose? That I hadn't already caught her and put her in jail?

Apparently not. She'd also decided to try to ruin my life.

Her threat to Carolyn was worse this time.

The past messages had been taunts to Carolyn, sexual innuendo meant to drive a wedge between us, but nothing that suggested that Rhonda would try to do something to her.

This one was different.

And it wasn't as though I'd been completely complacent about Rhonda up to this point. Because I'd been looking for her. I'd spent quite a bit of time trying to track her down.

But with this latest message, she'd just drawn a line in the sand.

Now I was going to go at her with everything that I had.

When the message came in, Carolyn was out of the office. I didn't want to tell the other two without first having shown it to her, so I waited.

And I silently fumed.

I set aside the file that I'd been working on and instead picked up the information that we'd amassed on Rhonda, aka Addison Hooper.

It had been a week since I'd looked at this information, so I read through the file from beginning to end in hopes that something would click.

Nothing did.

I made a few calls and learned that none of the accounts under Addison Hooper's name had been used, nor had any under the name of Rhonda Hagen.

Did she have that much cash on her, or was there another alias?

I was betting on the latter. Either that, or she'd found another rich man from whom to pilfer.

But she had to be in New York. She was keeping tabs on me somehow.

So then I gave that angle some consideration.

How would she have known that I was in Chicago?

Even if, and this was a huge _if_, but even if she had followed me to JFK last weekend, she wouldn't have known where I was going.

Unless she'd actually bought a ticket and gone through security and followed me to the departure gate.

And I would really like to think that I would've noticed her if she'd done all of that.

Not to mention the fact that I had traveled with three of the best detectives this side of the Mississippi, and none of them had noticed her either.

So no, she hadn't followed us through the airport.

I picked up the phone to make another call, but Carolyn came into the office before I dialed.

"I finished the Lehman consult," she told me as she came into the room. "So we can mark that one to be billed next week, okay?"

"Yeah, okay." I wasn't even going to try to pretend that everything was fine. All of the relaxing we'd done since we arrived back in New York was reversed with that one damn text.

"Mike? What is it?" she asked. She came fully into the room and closed the door behind her.

"It's…I got a…um…"

"Another text from Rhonda," she finished.

She walked around behind my desk and nudged her hip up onto the edge and then held out her hand for my phone. I gave it to her and watched her face as she read the words.

"Okay, let's think about this," she said calmly. "How would she know where you'd gone?"

"That's what I'm working on right now," I admitted, and the fact that she'd looked at the text analytically rather than personally had me filled with a renewed sense of resolve.

Carolyn wasn't going to let a little thing like a text message get her down. She was going to use it as leverage to find the bitch.

"You are incredible, do you know that?" I asked her as I pulled her onto my lap.

"Well, yeah," she replied with a smile. "I'd have to be to be able to snag you for a husband, right?"

"That is true," I said.

I wrapped my arms around her, needing to feel that she was safe and unharmed by the psycho who seemed to have it in for both of us.

"I am quite the catch," I added.

"Yes, you are," she said softly, all hints of joking gone from her voice.

We held each other for a few minutes, enjoying a brief respite.

But then she stood up and picked up the phone again, re-reading the text. It was time to get back to business.

"How could she have known?" she asked again, as much to me as to herself. "We kept our names out of the Chicago paper. You weren't officially arrested. Did you use your credit card at all?"

Her question brought me back to where I'd been when she came into the office.

"I was actually getting ready to call them when you got here. I did use it a couple of times, so I'm going to find out if my account was accessed."

"How would she even know which company you use?"

"It's the same one," I admitted.

"You still have the same card that you had when you and her…"

"Yeah," I interrupted. I didn't want to know how she was going to complete that sentence.

I was grateful that she didn't tell me I was stupid for having the same credit card. Because I'd really never given it any thought. I hadn't known what Rhonda was until recently. Before then, I just thought she was some bimbo who was into cops.

But if it turned out that my credit card was how she'd tracked me, then she must have gone through my wallet at some point. She'd never used the card for anything, so it never occurred to me until now.

I picked up the phone and called Chase-Manhattan Bank. They were happy to inform me that my recent charges had been discussed with my wife on Wednesday.

"So that's that," Carolyn remarked when I filled her in. "She lost track of you since we weren't at home for a few days, she still had your account number for some reason, so she used that to find out where you'd been."

She was remarkably composed, and she helped me stay focused.

"Let's keep that account," she said. "But don't use it anymore," she added with a smile. "We'll get you another one. We'll use that one if we decide we want to lead her in a specific direction. What else was in your wallet that she would've had access to?"

What was in my wallet more than two years ago when I'd had drunken sex with a psycho woman on a few different occasions? Is that really what my wife was asking me?

I shook my head.

"Sweetheart, I have no idea," I admitted.

"Not too much has changed, right?" she encouraged. "I mean, you would've had your driver's license. ATM card? Any other credit cards? Pictures?"

"Um…no other credit cards. My ATM card would've been a different bank," I reminded her, since we now had an account together. "My license would've been in there. And…um…a picture of you."

"Of me?" she asked in surprise.

I wasn't going to mention how much finagling I'd gone through to get that photo.

"Okay," she continued when I merely nodded rather than offer an explanation. "You know what, so then she knows who I am. She's smart enough to have put it together."

"Put what together?"

"When I helped you follow her last year, and I approached her in her building, I gave her my name. I'm pretty sure it didn't hit her at the time, but she would've thought about it later. She'd seen my picture in your wallet, you called out my name during sex, and then I was at her apartment…"

It made sense. And it added some depth to this thing.

We agreed to hold off telling the Gorens until the next day. It was almost quitting time anyway, and we were going to have dinner together. There was no sense putting a damper on the down time. The fact that she was sending me texts was nothing new, so waiting twelve more hours or so wasn't going to hurt.

But then of course, they had to ask about it. And I wasn't going to lie.

They'd wanted to follow us home that night to make sure that everything was okay, but I wasn't going to run scared from Rhonda. She might pose some sort of threat with her games and scams, but I wasn't actually afraid of her physically. So I managed to convince them that we were fine.

And the next day, things were fairly uneventful. All four of us worked on leads to track down Rhonda. There were lots of threads but none of them were connected to anything, so things only proved to be more frustrating.

We did find another alias. And this one disturbed me more than I wanted to admit to anyone.

Not that I hid my emotions well. Not in this office, anyway.

I had to get used to the fact that my feelings were out there whether I announced them or not.

They all knew me too well.

Which was why when the name of that new alias popped onto Alex's screen, she let out a stream of curse words that would make a sailor blush.

Shannon Logan. Rhonda was using the name of my long-dead abusive mother.

We called it a day after that. It was making my head spin and I need to take some time to sort through it.

"We're going to be at my parents' house," Alex told me as they gathered their things to leave. "But you call us immediately if anything happens, okay?"

"I will."

"Mike," she warned, as though she knew my flippant response was insincere.

And who am I kidding? Of course she knew.

She kept staring at me until I looked up from the floor and met her gaze. Then I looked behind her and found Goren staring at me intently, too.

"I will," I said again, and this time I meant it.

I didn't want to interrupt their family dinner, but if something new happened with this case, I would absolutely call them.

* * *

Bobby POV

I knew that Mike was rattled by the latest developments in the Rhonda Hagen case, and I would've loved to be able spend some more time with him rather than go to Alex's parents' house, but I wasn't about to disappoint her.

We'd been spending the bare minimum amount of time with her family, and I knew that was largely because of me.

"I can cancel," Alex offered as we headed toward the Staten Island Ferry station. "We can have dinner with Mike and Carolyn and make sure that he's okay. I don't like the direction this thing is headed. You said last week that Rhonda was devolving, and you were absolutely right."

"I wish I weren't," I admitted. "But no, we need to visit your family. We'll check in with them later."

"We don't have to stay too long. We can probably get back to the city by ten o'clock. We'll stop by their place before we go home."

With that settled, I leaned my head back against the seat and thought about what we'd learned.

Why would Rhonda use Mike's mother's name? Was it simply to mess with his head, or was there more to it than that? And if that name was significant, then was her other alias also meaningful somehow? Who was Addison Hooper and what had she been to Rhonda Hagen?

"Are you going to think out loud, or do you want me to start guessing?" Alex asked me as we arrived at the ferry station.

"I'm…no, you know what? Let's not think about this tonight."

"No work thoughts at all?" she asked with a smile. "What will we talk about?"

"I think that we need to talk about our bet."

"What bet is that?" she questioned innocently.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about. And it's triple now."

"Triple? I don't think so."

"I got Carver to confess in three minutes."

"I don't believe I ever accepted the terms of that bet," she replied coyly.

And she might have been trying to play hard to get, but I noticed the telltale flush of her skin as she pondered the possibilities of what settling the bet may entail.

We were each quiet for a moment as we paid the fare and drove onto the ferry, but then she cut off the engine and gave me a scorching look that had me shifting in my seat.

"Let's get out," I told her. I got out and went around to the driver's side of the car and held the door open for her. It seemed backwards and antiquated, but she smiled at me all the same.

"Outside or inside?" she asked as she took hold of my hand.

Inside was warmer. Outside was much less crowded.

And even though it was a cold evening, we had heavy coats on.

And I would keep her warm.

"Outside," I told her.

As the ferry took off from the station heading for Staten Island, we walked around to the side of the vessel and found a spot along the rail. I had been right in my estimation. Most of the passengers had chosen to make the trip in the warmth of the enclosed areas.

"This is nice," I whispered into her ear as I held her tightly against me. I had use of my arm again, after having been cleared by Rodgers this morning.

"_Don't use it excessively,"_ she'd warned. _"But there's no need to keep it in the sling. It's healing nicely."_

And it was still sore, but not enough to keep me from holding Alex.

"It's been awhile since I had both of your arms around me," she agreed.

She was wearing a dress again tonight. For me, she'd said. And she looked so beautiful that I was having a hard time taking my eyes off of her. Hell, I didn't need to. I would just stare at her all evening.

The wind blowing off the ocean was swirling under her dress and lifting it slightly, but she had on a long overcoat which helped to hold it in place. I knew it had to be making her legs cold though, so I opened my coat and then wrapped it around her.

She settled her cheek against my chest. The smell of her and the warmth that our bodies were creating was instigating a tingling feeling that reached down to my toes.

It never seemed to matter how much or how little time had passed since we'd last made love. When I held her like this, my body reacted. Instantly.

And considering our position, it didn't go unnoticed.

"It's too cold," she said quietly.

"You want to go inside?" I asked immediately.

"No, I mean it's too cold to make love out here. Maybe in the summer."

"I wasn't going to suggest…"

"I know," she interrupted, and I could feel her chuckling as she stayed flush up against me. "But it would be fun, don't you think?"

"Fun isn't the word that I would use," I said in a low voice, and I brought my hand up into her hair so that I could tip her head back.

And then I kissed her.

It wasn't a teasing kiss, or one that left any doubt as to exactly what I wanted to do to her.

And if I had the full use of both of my arms I still might've considered it, because where we were standing, there wasn't another soul in sight.

She pulled back for a minute and looked up at me.

She was out of breath, and I knew that I had her going. Her eyes kept shifting from my eyes and then down to my mouth before slowly lifting upwards again.

She reached down between us and ran her hand along the front of my slacks, causing me to suck in a harsh breath.

So much for me controlling this little tete`-a-tete´.

"Don't start what you can't finish," she said huskily, and then she captured my lips again and pushed harder against me, creating an amazing pressure that was making me reconsider the logistics of making love on this boat.

She moved her lips away from my mouth, this time working her way down my throat, while her hands continued to stroke in rhythm down my back, around to my front, and then to the back again.

I was rapidly losing my tenuous grip on my self-restraint. I wanted to pick her up. I wanted to feel her legs wrapped around me. I wanted to run my hands up under her dress and feel the soft silky skin of her thighs beneath my fingertips.

And because I could so perfectly imagine the feel of her legs, in combination with the sensation of her lips on my neck, when she let loose with a low moan, I was very nearly pushed over the edge.

We were standing on the deck still fully clothed, making out like a couple of teenagers, and it seemed as though we had both lost control.

And neither one of us cared.

Until the horn sounded signifying our approach. Which meant we'd need to get back to our car. Which meant that we'd be at her parents' house soon.

And I had no idea how long it was going to take for me to settle myself down.

Alex stilled her movements and once again settled her head against my chest. Mercifully, she eased her hips away from me so that I could begin to get a handle on things.

"Do we really have to go to my parents' house?" she mumbled against me. "We could just ride the ferry back home."

I chuckled at her suggestion and began running a series of geometrical theorems through my head so that the blood flow would be forced northward.

"We'll get through dinner, and then we'll be off the hook for a few weeks."

"And when we get home…"

"When we get home, we'll finish what we started," I promised.

We stood on deck for a few more minutes, and then we went back to our car. Twenty minutes later, we were parked in front of her parents' house.

"Cathy's going to be here?" I asked as we got out.

"That's what Dad said. She and Steve both, so it might be awkward," she warned.

"At least it'll be awkward because of someone other than me," I joked. It would be nice to be off of the hot seat.

"Alex! Bobby!" It was her dad. He must have heard the car because he'd come out on the front porch to greet us. "How was the ride in?"

I couldn't stop the immediate blush at his unexpected question. Especially considering that the mention of the ferry ride had reminded me of all of the x-rated things that I planned to do to his daughter once we got back home.

Fortunately, since we were still outside, the redness of my cheeks went unnoticed. Alex's too, because when I glanced at her, I realized that her mind had gone to the same place as mine.

"It was fine, Dad," she deflected. She grabbed my hand and we followed her father into the house.

It turned out that Cathy didn't come. She and Steve had gotten into an argument which had led to some great drama that included threats of lawsuits and sole custody.

"It's getting pretty messy," Alex's mom said over dinner. "She could really use a shoulder, Alex."

"I'll talk to her," she promised. "I suggested that they get some counseling, but Cathy seems pretty set on leaving him."

"She said she tried calling you all last week and that you wouldn't answer."

"I told you that I lost my phone, Mom. I've got a new one now. I haven't been ignoring her."

"Just remember, she's your sister. You spend more time with that other girl…what's her name?"

"Carolyn."

"Right. You spend more time with her than you do your own sister."

"We're business partners," Alex said, and I could tell that she was beginning to lose her patience. _So much for us not being the focal point at this dinner_. "And we're friends."

"Cathy is blood," her father reminded her sternly.

I could hear Alex's phone buzzing, which saved her from giving a response. Or more to the point, it saved her dad from hearing her response because I had no doubt it would've been scathing.

She pulled her phone from her pocket and looked at the display and then cast me a worried glance.

"It's Logan," she told me.

My heart sank. I knew he wouldn't call unless it was something big.

"Mike?" she answered, ignoring her mother's chastising look for answering her cell phone at the dinner table.

I watched her expectantly while she listened to what he had to say. Her face fell, and she immediately got up from the table, so I did, too.

As she continued to listen, she went to the coat closet and opened the door, so I pulled out both of our coats and helped her into hers before slipping into my own.

She finally hung up the phone and she met my eyes with tears in her own.

"Rhonda's got Carolyn."

"What? When? _How?_"

"We need to get back into the city. Mike's waiting for us," she told me. "I'll explain it as we go."

"Alex, what's going on?"

"We have to go. I'm sorry. Mike's wife is in trouble."

"This friend is always in trouble. He's the one who pulled you away from here at Christmas," her dad accused. "What kind of friend is he?"

My eyes were still on Alex and I knew that she was getting ready to explode, so I stepped closer to her to get in between her and her father, and then I gently pushed her towards the door.

"What kind of friend is he?" I repeated. "The best kind there is. He's my brother."

**The End**


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